


This Looks Like Job For Brucie?!

by Trista_zevkia



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, Smallville, Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics), World's Finest (Comics)
Genre: Amnesia, Attempted Seduction, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, Identity Porn, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 15:32:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3942049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark Kent is missing, and the JL looks for a consulting detective. He finds Kent, and then J'onn suggests sending Brucie Wayne in to rescue him!<br/>There is no way this will work, J'onn's gone insane, but for some reason they still try it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Looks Like Job For Brucie?!

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a fanzine that didn't happen, titled 'A Dark Knight in Smallville' about mixing the Batman movies with the Smallville TV series. Might help to refresh your memory on that series, including that Chloe Sullivan married Oliver Queen, Lex knew Clark was Superman and so forth.  
> Please enjoy.

sB _Sb_ Bs

Flash was out to clear his head, jogging. This meant the people he passed could see him, a human shaped red blur moving along. Even as he jogged, Flash looked around for something, a tiny clue in a big mystery. Just about the time Flash registered he was in the outskirts of Gotham, a new light flickered to life in the cloudy sky. 

Flash stood still, considering the light for a solid minute. His body was still, but his mind was moving faster even than his feet normally did, bringing him to a decision. He ran, as fast as he could, to downtown Gotham, to GCPD headquarters, up the stairs and to the roof. The roof wasn’t empty, as a normal human turned to the door when it opened for Flash. 

“Hi. Impulse, isn’t it?” 

“No, I changed it, but decided against Impulse man. It seemed the thing, Aqua-lad going to Aquaman and such but I thought it sounded like a guy with no impulse control or maybe electrical abilities. I’m Flash now, you know, a flash of light as I run by that you don’t quite see.” 

“Right, no impulse control. So, Flash, are you pitch hitting?” 

“What? Oh, you mean am I covering for Bats while he’s on vaca or something? No, I was just jogging by and I saw the light.” As he spoke, Flash moved over to look at the spotlight, to see if it was special in some way, other than the bat shape covering the front. “It’s really bright, I guess because Gotham’s such a dark, depressing place or something. Designed by Bella Lugosi, right?” 

The human blinked at Flash, and leaned against the roof’s outer wall. He spoke slowly, as if by doing so he could convince Flash to get to the point. “What did you wish to talk to Batman about?” 

“Got a bit of mystery on my hands, could use another opinion. How is he with missing persons?” 

“Commissioner.” A dark voice growled across the roof, sending Flash to the far side in a startled step away from the voice. 

“Good to see I’m not the only one you do that to.” Commissioner Gordon said in an amused voice. 

“He bothering you?” Batman asked, stepping forward to shut off the spotlight. 

“No, just surprised me to see one of your friends up here.” 

“Not a friend.” 

“Who’s fault is that?” Flash was back, standing beside the commissioner and fighting to be a part of the conversation. “If you had an email or something, we could talk, go out for coffee.” 

Commissioner Gordon laughed, trying to hide it behind his hand. 

Flash thought about what he’d said, tried to imagine the dark, threatening figure before him in a chain coffee store. Imagined that growl asking for extra foam and skim milk, and then Flash was laughing too. 

Batman counted out thirty seconds, letting them get it out of their systems. “Superman still missing then?” 

Flash sobered up in an instant. “How’d you know?” 

“No front page press for a week.” 

“Lo… lordy, but his lady friend had to tell us when he didn’t return from a fight.” 

“A week without him, and the world hasn’t ended.” 

“What do you have against Supes? He’s a great guy, which you’d know if you read those articles about him! I might not be smart enough to find him on my own, but I know when to ask for help. Have you ever had to ask for help?” 

“He’s got you there, Batman.” 

Flash flicked a look at Gordon, the spotlight and the Batman shaped shadow, coming to a quick understanding. “Even you can’t do everything alone; you had to ask Gordon for help at some point. Bet there are others too, ones even Gordon doesn’t know about.” 

“Special people, not people with special powers.” 

Flash pulled back, hoping Batman hadn’t seen how much his words had hurt. He’d heard similar things from people all his life, except for one. A friend had told him he could be more than a petty thief with a special gift, that he could be a special person with a special gift. “Batman, you don’t have to be nice to me, I just want your help in finding Superman.” 

“Go on, Batman.” Gordon said, giving a shrug of approval. “Gotham and all her problems will still be here when you get back.” 

“Why should I help?” 

“It’s Superman! He’s fantastic and nice and he’s done so much for the planet! How could you not want to help?” Flash got his startled outburst out in a rush of words, not believing Batman wouldn’t want to help. 

Gordon didn’t understand a thing Flash had said, since he said it so fast, so he answered Batman’s question in his own way. “Without Superman patrolling Metropolis, the criminals there will get bold. They’ll try to expand their territory, into Gotham. I don’t have the manpower for another gang war, let alone an organized crime territorial dispute.” 

There was a long silence on the roof, stretching out until Flash was vibrating in place. He needed to move, he needed an answer. But if he moved, Batman might decide not to help, or he might decide to help if Flash did move. Should he stay still, should he move, he wanted to move, needed to move, which would help Batman decide? 

“I’ll help.” Batman growled, and Flash did a few victory laps around the roof to celebrate. 

Stopping in front of Batman, Flash reached for him. “I can carry you, we’ll be at the Watchtower in a few min- Owe!” 

The hand on Batman’s shoulder had found itself being forcibly removed. Caught while Flash felt safe, while he wasn’t paying attention, the strong hand that bent his wrist at a painful angle had easily subdued the world’s fastest man. 

“Speed isn’t always the answer, is it?” 

“No sir, Batman my friend. Now that you mention it, I think speeding out of this little judo hold might just break my wrist, which would mean several painful days of recovery for me.” 

“Get the other members of your Justice League. In two hours, we meet at your headquarters. Have all your data on Superman’s disappearance ready.” Batman released his hold on Flash, and turned to Gordon. “What did you want to see me about?” 

“Hold on, just making myself a note to never touch the cape.” 

Flash stopped in his careful retreat to turn and look at Gordon. The man wasn’t moving, wasn’t writing anything down. Gordon was joking with Batman! Flash wondered what it took to make a person special in Batman’s eyes. Now, he was doubly glad it was a young Superman who had found him all those years ago. Shaking his head, Flash walked slowly into the stairwell, hearing Gordon’s words before the door closed. 

“Got a death row case, convicted before your time, maintains his innocence. I know he’s a bad guy, but I don’t think he did the murders he’s accused of. Waylon Hall is out of appeals, unless some new evidence shows up.” 

The door closed and Flash started running, working the JL comm. as he did so. In two hours, they’d all get to meet Batman, even if he was a jerk it had to be worth getting out of bed for. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Most of the JL hadn’t been asleep when Flash had contacted them, but they were ready for sleep when the meeting started. Flash started a third pot of coffee, even as he told his story for the tenth time, adding details for Black Canary. Green Arrow was flirting over the satellite link to Star City, and the digital representation of his wife flirted back as J’onn watched. J’onn was in his human form, but nobody remarked on it. Cyborg was working on one of his designs while waiting for the meeting to start, aware of the time even as he worked. 

“Flash!” Cyborg called, interrupting Flash as he told Canary how he’d outrun the Batmobile to force Batman to help. “Is this guy showing up or what? He’s fifteen minutes late.” 

“Dude, he said two hours, what did you want me to do?” 

“Actually,” J’onn’s perpetually calm voice interrupted, and the JL turned to him. “Batman has been here for almost an hour. Shall I call him?” 

“No need.” The growl proceeded Batman’s entrance into the meeting room. He barely glanced at the assembled team, eyes on the device in his left hand. A large evidence bag hung from that same hand, filled with wires and electrical devices. Batman tossed the bag on the table, letting the JL see the surveillance equipment Batman had gathered. 

“Did all this come from the Watchtower?” Cyborg asked, afraid of the answer. 

“Cover your ears.” Batman said by way of a reply. He allowed them a second to comply before the device in his hand started shrieking. It osculated through several frequencies before settling into a hum that was only audible to Cyborg’s advanced hearing. 

Cyborg made an adjustment to his audio receptors and the noise faded. Batman took a seat and turned to the monitor Green Arrow had been speaking with. “You still with us, Mrs. Arrow?” 

“You blew out my recording equipment!” The altered image also had a voice modulator, to keep the woman behind it safe, but her indignation was still evident. 

“I don’t want a record of this meeting.” 

“Then you should have told Flash that, instead of showing up early and destroying things!” 

“I was checking your security. It is outdated and insufficient. If my activities aren’t enough proof, look at all the bugs your enemies have managed to plant over the years.” 

“Nobody gets into this building without me knowing about it.” 

“Except me, Mrs. Arrow?” 

“Batman,” Flash interrupted, hating the tension in the room. “Remember what Gordon Said.” 

The artificial light reflected off the white lenses Batman wore, as he slowly turned his head toward Flash. Swallowing heavily, Flash steeled himself to not turn away. Batman studied him but finally spoke. “Tell me what you know of Superman’s disappearance.” 

“No problem! After we couldn’t get him on the comm. or the phone and he didn’t show up for work or patrol, we started looking. J’onn did his mental thing, while the computer genius of Mrs. Arrow did her thing. I ran around, looking up Supes villains and places that needed his help. Nothing!” 

“You ran around in circles, but really fast?” 

Flash wilted under Batman’s words, but J’onn spoke, pulling Batman’s attention away. “Batman, we conducted a more thorough search than Flash’s description implies. We decided on the individuals most likely to incapacitate Superman and focused on them. I did a visual check on the ones that are incarcerated, confirming that they are there and not manipulating their watchers somehow.” 

“I put bugs and cameras on the ones that weren’t in jail.” Cyborg said, though he was glaring at the bag of bugs on the table. “Didn’t hear anything about Superman other than how much they hated him.” 

“When Toyman sent an army of High School-age Radiated Kung-Fu Reptiles action figures into Metropolis, they were armed with Kryptonite based lasers.” Green Arrow added, drumming his fingers on the table. “We captured him and figured out he didn’t know Superman was missing.” 

“Indeed, our most likely suspect is still Luthor.” J’onn nodded at Green Arrow before turning back to Batman. “He has a long history with Superman, and neither has been able to decisively defeat the other. Consensus is that had Luthor managed to finish off Superman, he would announce his victory.” 

“That’s what I said!” Flash interrupted, then shrugged. “Sort of. We stared doing the same to those we didn’t think could take Supes down, like Live Wire. Still nothing and after all that, running around in circles was all I could think of to do!” 

“Telepath,” Batman said as he turned to J’onn, dismissing Flash. “Did you interview the suspects, or probe their minds to see if they had outside help?” 

“He didn’t have to.” The disguised voice on the other end of the monitor spoke. “I monitor their phone calls, visitors and anything they do on computers. I went back through every file on them, found codes for all sorts of crimes, but nothing about hurting Superman. His enemies all want to be the one to take him out; they won’t share the glory.” 

“Go back to Luthor.” Batman worked his computer, pulling up a file on Luthor. “I’ve been watching him for a while. Eleven months ago, something happened with him.” 

No one spoke, as they thought back and tried to decide what Batman was talking about. Mrs. Arrow was the first to speak. “I don’t have any records of anything happening then. Luthor was quiet, in one of his planning stages.” 

“Look at pictures of him since. He has tiny surgical scars under his ears and on his throat.” 

“Let me look.” Mrs. Arrow worked her screens and a large image of Luthor showed on the largest screen in the meeting room. Zooming in on the image, she found and marked a scar under Luthor’s left ear. Another picture showed a good view of his throat, and let her find a scar just under his Adam’s apple. “I see it. What’s the purpose behind that?” 

“Not scars from common surgeries. I believe he had something implanted, electronic devices of some sort. He’s so focused on Superman that he’s stayed out of Gotham. Luthor is not a priority for me.” 

“That’s your excuse?” Green Arrow was on his feet, the table between them got the pounding of heavy fists, instead of Batman’s head. “You notice an invisible scar the rest of the world misses and let it go because it’s outside of your turf? It took you an hour to work your way down here because you had to stop and mark your territory in every room!” 

“You want a pissing contest with me, fine. But while we do that, why don’t you have your pet telepath go see if the Luthor isn’t being controlled by someone else.” 

“Who do you think could control Luthor?” J’onn asked, knowing Luthor was a strong willed individual. 

“Toyman, with a little bit of study. Braniac, with a minimal of effort. Any random person exposed to a certain kind of rock.” Batman paused, speaking his final two choices directly to J’onn. “Telepaths, aliens.” 

“I will seek out Luthor and determine if he is being influenced somehow.” J’onn shut his eyes and concentrated. 

“You’ve done enough, Batman. You can go now.” Green Arrow was trying to sound reasonable. 

“Leave?” Batman turned to face Green Arrow, and tilted his head. “I don’t want you chasing me down to plan a rescue mission when it turns out I’m right.” 

“We can handle this.” 

“Then why did you need my help?” Batman asked, sounding like a college professor with a sore throat. He wasn’t impressed with anyone finding the right answer, unless they knew how they got that answer. 

“Any fresh pair of eyes would have done. We don’t need you coming in here and insulting us!” 

“I haven’t insulted anybody, yet.” 

“Every word you said was an insult!” Green Arrow was shouting, trying to decide which arrow would be best for getting through Batman’s armor. 

“I should hide the truth under layers of complements?” 

“The truth is we are a team! You are a territorial rat with wings and we’ll probably have to take you down when you kill someone.” 

“You can try.” The soft amusement didn’t reduce the threat in Batman’s voice. 

“Gentleman.” J’onn’s voice cut through the tension as he returned from his visit to Luthor. “The person sitting in Luthor’s penthouse apartment has limited mental functioning. I performed only a cursory probe of his mind but I am certain he is not the Luthor we know.” 

“Not Lex?” Flash responded quickest, getting over his shock to speak. “Then who is he?” 

“What about the scars?” Batman asked, seemingly unconcerned with Flash’s question. 

“Implanted devices, as you believed.” J’onn nodded to Batman, before turning to the monitor. “There was an electronic signature to the devices, which might be traceable.” 

“I’m looking for it now.” Screens changed as Mrs. Arrow worked her equipment. 

“Well, Bats?” Green Arrow was ready to pick up the fight J’onn had interrupted. “You going to tell her how to do it?” 

“The only lack of judgment I’ve seen from Chloe Sullivan is marrying you.” Batman didn’t even raise his voice but Green Arrow was sliding over the table toward him. 

“Ollie!” The voice was still disguised, but it managed to get through to her husband. “Yes, Batman’s an asshole. But you’ve been angry ever since Superman disappeared. Don’t fight with him!” 

“He started it!” Ollie pointed, his finger half an inch from Batman’s face, who hadn’t even stood to defend himself. 

“What are you, six?” Flash’s mouth was covered by his hands the second he realized what he’d just said to Ollie, but it was too late. 

“Switching sides, again, Impulse?” Ollie directed his anger to Flash, who made sure he had a clear path to run. 

“Fascinating team you have here, Oliver.” Batman said, getting the JL focused on him again. “Whole group dissolves with the slightest bit of agitation.” 

“Guys!” A triumphant shout from the speakers, and hopeful faces turned to the monitor. “The devices are high tech radios. I’ve tracked them to a boat off of Santa Prisca, no cameras there, so I’m sending the coordinates to your phone.” 

“I’m fully charged and ready for a fight!” Cyborg jumped to his feet, and an excited JL followed his lead. 

“Stop.” Batman’s commanding tone got instant compliance, which embarrassed the JL as soon as they realized they’d done so. “Going in blind, no visual on your target? Superman might not even be there, or he might be bait to capture the rest of you. Sit down, and let Chloe redirect a satellite.” 

“She can do that while we get there.” Green Arrow let his hands ball into fists as he spoke. “You can go home, we got this.” 

“Think I’ll stay, to comfort your widow.” 

Ollie yelled as he jumped for Batman, only to land heavily on the floor. As he fought to suck air back into his lungs, Ollie turned to look. Batman was in the same position he’d been a moment ago, comfortably seated. He leaned forward to speak to Ollie. 

“Blind with rage, you can’t even remember these chairs have wheels. How much use are you going to be to an injured Superman?” 

Ollie found his feet, but held his chest as he staggered away. He managed a brief message before exiting the room. “Wheels up in twenty.” 

The rest of the JL followed him out, giving Batman a wide berth. Batman’s face didn’t change, but they could feel his amusement. J’onn was the last to leave, as he let his mind brush against Batman’s. Planning was important, as Batman had said, and J’onn only took Batman’s secret identity to plan for the future. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Since the signal was from a boat, Ollie had taken the aquaplane. He’d learned to fly to keep up with Superman and to easily commute between his life in Star City and his work with the JL. He also found it relaxing, something only Chloe knew. As he flew, he could accept that he’d been angry his inability to find his friend. But Batman was still an asshole. 

“Chloe, we’re at Santa Prisca.” 

“I’ve using the cameras from your plane to pinpoint the source of the signal… It’s the _Van Dross._ That huge yacht at the far end of the marina.” 

“I’ll try to land so you can watch the action.” 

“Good luck, to all of you.” Chloe was the last to speak as Ollie landed the plane. 

He taxied the craft to the dock while Cyborg opened the door. Aquaman slipped into the water, a quick swim would put him on the far side of the yacht. J’onn went intangible even as he changed into his alien form. He moved to the yacht, positioning himself to help his friends however he could. 

A suggestive grin from Flash, and Canary nodded back. Arm in arm, they found a place to wait for the fight to begin. Flash would then carry her into the heart of the fight, so her martial arts and Canary Cry could be focused on any resistance they met. 

Cyborg and Green Arrow walked to the _Van Dross_ , hoping anybody who saw them would think they were the only two members of the JL present. The entrance to the _Van Dross_ was blocked with a security gate. Cyborg ripped the gate free and tossed the remains onto the yacht. Cyborg walked onto the yacht, and Green Arrow followed him. 

“Far enough, you two.” 

Looking toward the voice, Green Arrow and Cyborg saw a bald man, outlined by the early morning light. Green Arrow took a step away from Cyborg, not quite believing what he thought he saw. 

“Lex Luthor?” 

“Congratulations, you’ve found me. Now go away.” Luthor wasn’t happy to be found, particularly not by a group that so loved to interfere with his plans. 

“Who else is on this boat?” Green Arrow called, his voice modulator making him sound commanding. 

“My security detail. Should I call them?” 

“Yes.” 

“Is that a threat, Arrow-boy?” 

“Could be. We’re looking for a missing person. Pretend this is Cinderella, and we’ve got to try the glass slipper on all the girls.” 

“No. Instead, I’ll introduce you to my head of security.” Luthor held his left wrist to his mouth, and made an adjustment to the device. “Mr. Jones, I need your assistance.” 

There was no verbal reply, but a moment later a man walked up to stand beside Luthor. 

“Green Arrow, this is Mr. Jones. Mr. Jones, that man is known as Cyborg. Would you throw him off my yacht?” Luthor walked away, expecting his politely phrased order to be carried out. 

Cyborg grinned, and widened his stance. A blur of motion later and Cyborg was flying through the air, landing heavily on the dock. Mr. Jones was too close to shoot, so Green Arrow readied himself to throw a punch. 

“Go on, hit me.” Mr. Jones taunted. 

“ _Resist_.” J’onn’s voice mentally called out to Green Arrow, staying his hand. “ _A retreat is in order.”_

“What?” Green Arrow asked out loud, getting a strange look from Mr. Jones. 

“I said it’s okay, you can hit me.” 

_“New information has come to my attention. Retreat.”_

Green Arrow yelled to the door Luthor had entered. “We just wanted to talk, so we’ll leave.” 

Watching Mr. Jones, Green Arrow left the yacht. A confused Cyborg walked with him, back to the plane. The rest of the JL climbed back in, shooting looks at J’onn until Green Arrow had them in the air. 

Ollie pulled off his mask and triggered the radio. “Chloe, you listening?” 

“Right here.” An instantaneous reply, because Chloe worried about her team and wanted full details the second the fight was over. 

“Good. J’onn, you ready to explain?” 

“Yes.” J’onn had readied himself, having known how much his teammates would want the explanation he had. “I sought out the individuals in the yacht. Kal is there …” 

“Then why did you call a retreat?” Cyborg jumped to his feet, shaking the plane. Carefully, he sat back down with a muttered apology. 

“Kal’s body is there, but not his mind. He was asleep, so I was able to do a thorough search. His intelligence is intact, but he lacks all personal memories.” 

“We can go back, get his body and help him find his memory! I’ll tell him everything, about how we first meet and what we did for New Years.” Flash ran his words together, hating the confinement of the plane. He could have run, across the water, but he’d never heard of Santa Prisca and didn’t think he could find it. He could have run back, but he needed to hear what had happened. “I could even tell him about the last three bachelor parties we’ve given him, before his marriage got postponed again!” 

“I am more concerned with the hold Luthor holds over Kal. It is personal.” 

“Personal?” Black Canary asked, worry in her voice. “It makes me nervous to hear you talk like that J’onn.” 

J’onn gave her an understanding nod, knowing that he seemed emotionless to most humans. His teammates knew he felt more than he let on, but it would always be strange to hear him talk about it. “There is much we should discover before confronting Luthor again.” 

“How do we do that?” Canary asked, her confusion showing. 

“We send in a Mata Hari.” Flash threw out his idea, smiling at Canary. She rolled her eyes instead of responding to his flirting. 

“Luthor would never fall for a spy!” Ollie spat out, knowing how paranoid Luthor could be. 

“Depends on the spy.” Cyborg added. “I can plant some bugs on him.” 

“That requires Luthor to talk about his plan, and he keeps things close, you know?” Ollie added, hoping Cyborg wouldn’t be angry at him. 

“Yeah, I know.” Muttered Cyborg. 

“We’ll still try and bug him, though.” Ollie said, knowing that would cheer Cyborg up. “So how do we get Lex to talk? Get him to tell Clark somehow? J’onn, what’s so personal between them?” 

“Luthor is attempting to seduce Kal.” 

“What?” Different voices, different levels of shock echoed through the plane at J’onn’s words. 

“A spy would have to interrupt the growing relationship between Kal and Luthor.” 

“She’d also have to blend into the people on the marina.” Canary spoke, planning it out in her mind. “Fancy clothes, big boat. I think could do it, but I haven’t spent a lot of time being rich.” 

“I do not think you understand.” J’onn shook his head a little at Canary. “Kal has been told that his sexual preference is male.” 

More sputtered words, but Flash began to laugh. When Flash was only giggling, Chloe spoke. 

“I volunteer Ollie. He looks good in drag.” Now everybody except J’onn laughed, remembering that incident. J’onn indulgently allowed them to finish before he spoke again. 

“Luthor would recognize Oliver, and Chloe.” 

“Then who should be we send?” Flash asked, needing his friend Clark back. “This is usually when I get to say, ‘This looks like a job for…’ so who’s going to volunteer?” 

“I have a suggestion. Someone with no ties to the Justice League, but he does have the money for a yacht and a highly publicized romantic nature.” With every eye on him, J’onn shifted his form. He used the most recent photo he had seen, with mussed up hair and lipstick on the shirt collar. 

“Bruce Wayne?” Ollie began to laugh, and when tears filled his eyes he was glad he’d turned the autopilot on before calling Chloe. 

J’onn let them laugh and shifted back to his normal form. There would be more discussion as they returned to Metropolis, but J’onn was confident his idea would grow on them. Luthor would not suspect Bruce Wayne to be a spy, no more than the Justice League suspected he was Batman. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

“I still don’t know that this is a good idea.” Ollie muttered as he walked toward his destination. 

J’onn was beside him, but invisible. He replied softly, avoiding his telepathic talents for the moment. “A vote was taken and you agreed to abide by it.” 

“I call foul. I was coerced!” 

“Chloe only asked if you had a better idea. Do you?” 

Ollie stopped in front of the ornate door and thought about what was on the other side. “If only I did.” 

Pushing the door open, Ollie smiled brilliantly at the four secretaries between him and Brucie’s office. 

“May I help you?” The oldest of the secretaries asked in a businesslike tone. 

J’onn glided forward to work his magic on her, but only if it was necessary. They’d hoped Oliver’s fame and wealth would be the only ticket they needed to get to Wayne. 

“I’m Oliver Queen, and I’d like to see Brucie.” 

“Mr. Wayne is in a meeting.” She blinked twice, and continued speaking. “I suppose he won’t mind.” 

A startled noise came from one of the other secretaries, one who knew this was most unlike Mrs. Henderson. Ollie spoke, hoping to distract them all as Mrs. Henderson stood and walked toward the door labeled Bruce Wayne. 

“Thank you, ma’am. Brucie won’t mind, we go way back and I’ve got a fantastic business deal for him.” 

Mrs. Henderson ignored Ollie, opening the door and announcing him. “Mr. Wayne? Oliver Queen is here to see you.” 

Ollie walked by her, offering Brucie a wave. Mrs. Henderson returned to her desk, convinced Mr. Wayne had wanted to see Oliver, and J’onn floated into Wayne’s office. Ollie was shaking hands with Mr. Fox, a confused Brucie watching. 

“Golly, Ollie. It’s nice to see you again and all, but I don’t remember an appointment.” 

“I don’t actually have one, just convinced your very competent secretary that it was important.” 

“Well, if Mrs. Henderson believed you, I sure do. Confidentially, she scares me.” 

“I can understand that.” Ollie shared a good natured smile with Brucie, but was internally trying to gather the courage to say what he’d come to say. “Brucie, do you remember about ten years ago, when they passed the Vigilante Registration Act?” 

“No, not really. Lucius, where was I about ten years ago?” 

“I believe you were traveling, Mr. Wayne.” 

“Right!” Brucie replied with a fond smile, as if remembering something very pleasant. 

“I don’t know if you kept up on the news while traveling,” Ollie said, even though he was pretty sure Brucie didn’t keep up with the news now. Maybe the comics. “But I registered, told everybody I was the vigilante known as Green Arrow.” 

“Green Arrow?” Brucie asked, confused. “Isn’t that the name of a Martian in one of those sci-fi porn movies?” 

J’onn blinked, not having expected that at all. Where there porn movies about his species? 

“No Brucie, I work with the JL, the Justice League.” 

“Yeah! Them I’ve heard of!” 

Brucie was excited; Ollie was grinding his teeth and balling up his hands. He wasn’t in this for the fame, but the JL had decided he couldn’t spy on Luthor because he was too well known. Except to Brucie, which was why he’d make the perfect spy. Stretching a neck muscle, Ollie tried again. 

“The Justice League would like to ask for your help.” 

“My help?” Brucie’s voice deepened for those words, a touch of something else with his surprise. “Lucius, would you go see if we can spare some grant money and office furniture or something for the JL?” 

“Certainly Mr. Wayne. You’ve got my number, if you need anything.” Mr. Fox grabbed a stack of papers and nodded at Ollie before leaving the office. 

Ollie watched him go, sad that the intelligence had decreased so much in the office. He turned back, but Brucie wasn’t in his chair any longer. Brucie was standing ridiculously close to Ollie’s left side, and when Ollie startled, Brucie moved. A kick had Ollie’s legs in the air, toes pointed at the office door. A heavy hand on his chest pinned his shoulder blades to the large desk, head hanging off. Ollie tried to get his feet under him, but Brucie’s left hand wrapped around them, leaving Ollie with no purchase to fight back. With his legs held, he felt like he was going to slide off the desk and break his neck, so Ollie grabbed the desk to keep himself from falling. The Brucie that stared down at him was an entirely different man than Ollie had stared at a minute ago. 

“You’ve got five seconds to explain what possessed you to bring your JL to my place of business.” 

Ollie tried to get his hands up, pry that iron hand off his chest. He was thinking about a deep lungful of air, not what had just happened. 

“We have come for your assistance.” J’onn’s voice was calm, as he turned himself visible. 

Brucie turned to J’onn, but didn’t change his hold on Ollie. “Explain.” 

“Superman has lost his memory and is being brainwashed by Luthor.” 

“I knew that before I got to work.” 

“Luthor seeks to make Kal love him, becoming emotionally dependent on Luthor for all things. Then, Luthor will be able to return Kal’s powers to him, having Superman as his defender instead of enemy.” 

“And?” 

“It would be better if such a relationship were not to develop, while we determine the cause of Kal’s memory loss and work to restore it.” 

“What happened to his powers?” 

“It would seem Luthor’s head of security has acquired them somehow, a Mr. Jones.” 

“Can I get up now?” Ollie interrupted. He’d been trying to wait it out, but gravity was pulling on his dangling arms and they were starting to tingle. 

“I could drop your legs and break your neck before they hit the ground. For future reference, however, know that relaxing into the hold and falling to the ground would hurt a lot less than, say, death.” With that conversational tidbit, Bruce released Ollie. 

Ollie collapsed onto the floor, and realized it did hurt less than a broken neck. As Ollie found his feet, Bruce returned to his chair. 

“Why did you come here?” 

J’onn answered while Ollie found a visitor’s chair to collapse into. “The Justice League voted to let Brucie Wayne spy on Luthor, figuring even Luthor wouldn’t see Brucie as a threat.” 

“Wait. You came for Brucie?” 

Asked with a genuine disbelief and confusion that matched Ollie’s thoughts on all this, Ollie brain finally asked the right question. Who did psychotic Bruce think they’d come for? His brain filled in an answer and Ollie shouted at it. “No fucking way!” 

“I take it we have comprehension, Ollie?” Bruce asked, voice filled with the same condescension he’d used at last night’s meeting. 

“J’onn, you knew when you suggested this?” 

The Martian gave him a nod, and Ollie looked for something else to say. 

“I’ll rescue your Kal, on one condition.” 

Ollie turned to Bruce, _fucking Batman_ , and let his brain kick into haggle mode. This was a skill from his civilian life, one that kept Queen Industries a thriving concern. 

“J’onn will come with me.” Bruce spoke to them both, but focused in on J’onn. “You will do whatever I need you to, including teaching me how to shield against mental intrusions.” 

“I can only accept such a deal if it is understood that I will not betray any knowledge of JL members.” 

“Deal. I’ll have my yacht readied, we’ll leave at three.” 

“J’onn, why did you even bring me?” Ollie was annoyed enough to ask. The Martian could have just floated into the office and said his piece. 

“Comic relief.” Bruce answered first. 

J’onn had to answer now, his voice keeping Ollie in the visitor’s chair. Ollie wondered if Bruce’s chair had wheels, or if Bruce would actually have to put up a fight this time. 

“I wanted Batman to understand that the JL was behind this decision and not me alone.” 

“He wouldn’t trust just you.” 

“No.” Both Bruce and J’onn confirmed Ollie’s statement, but Bruce had more to say. “I don’t trust aliens without weakness who drop out of the sky and pretend to be mankind’s only hope.” 

Ollie chuckled. “You should have a great time with Lex. He’s just as paranoid.” 

“Come, Oliver. Batman has much to do before we depart.” J’onn said, with a nod toward Bruce. 

“It’s Brucie in public, Martian.” 

“Likewise, a variation on John will work for me.” A shift, and J’onn was in his human form. 

“Right.” Oliver got to his feet, clapping J’onn on the shoulder as he walked by. “See you later Bruce.” 

“Ollie, you tell anybody my secrets and you will regret it.” 

“Oliver will not betray you, nor will I.” J’onn spoke to Batman but sent a mental message to Oliver. _“As much as you dislike him, you would not want him for an enemy.”_

“Bruce, I won’t even tell Chloe.” Ollie promised, and reached for the doorknob. 

“Martian, you didn’t walk in here dressed like that.” 

It took Ollie just a second to understand Bruce wasn’t talking about clothes. 

“Very true.” J’onn replied, fading out of sight. Silently, Ollie left the office, with his invisible friend behind him. 

Ollie flew them back to the Watchtower, and called his wife. Ollie told Chloe that Brucie had agreed, and he was sending J’onn as backup. When she asked why, Ollie realized he could insult Brucie all he wanted without retaliation. Suddenly very happy, Ollie told anyone who might be listening just how stupid, annoying and useless Brucie was. Had to send J’onn in as backup so Brucie wouldn’t kill himself trying to tie his own shoes or ask Luthor what a spy was. 

Hoping Batman would hear every word on whatever bugs he’d planted last night, Ollie liberally sprinkled his insults into the briefing. As such, when J’onn left, the entire JL was sympathetic to the idiocy J’onn was subjecting himself to. Invisible and able to fly without a plane J’onn returned to Gotham, thinking Ollie would need the JL’s sympathy when Batman was through with him. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

The yacht took three days to get to Santa Prisca, though little use was made of the luxuries available. There was a small gym hidden in the large yacht and Batman and J’onn spent their time meditating there. Once Batman could produce basic shields against telepaths, J’onn showed him how to strengthen them when needed and how to fight back against forceful intrusions. In a way, J’onn regretted it when they reached their destination. Batman was a challenge to deal with, but also a skilled and motivated student. 

They arrived in Santa Prisca a few hours before sunset and J’onn hadn’t pushed into Batman’s mind to find the plan of action. When Batman stood and began stretching, J’onn was forced to ask verbally. “What is your plan?” 

“A surprise full frontal assault, Brucie style.” 

“I know those words, but you still avoided answering my question.” 

“We’re going to get drunk and stagger onto the wrong boat. We do it in front of Luthor’s victim and he’ll have to make nice.” 

“I do not think Kal would appreciate being termed a victim.” 

“I can’t call him Superman without knowing if Lex already knows that’s who he is. You said you wouldn’t tell me more about the JL members, which includes Kal.” 

“I have not pushed the topic, to avoid having you ask those questions. But I am aware you know more about Superman than you have implied. Are you attempting to get me to tell you what you do not know about him?” 

“Pretty much.” Batman couldn’t shrug, as he was going through a series of martial art movements, but otherwise he would have. “I’d also hoped you’d confirm what I suspected.” 

“Tell me what you suspect. If I find no harm in it, I will confirm or deny as needed.” 

Batman could have nodded, or it might have been a movement to prepare him for a series of spinning kicks at an imaginary target. “Superman, alien, from Krypton. You call him Kal, so I figure that’s his birth name. Only vulnerability is pieces of his home planet. He’s slightly photosynthetic, or solar powered. Can’t see through lead.” 

Here, Batman spared J’onn a look before moving over to a wooden pillar with horizontal sticks poking out. A shove sent the sticks spinning in different directions as Batman began to spar with the device. J’onn had seen Batman use it several times, but had not asked what it was called. 

“Adopted son of Jonathan and Martha Kent. Writes for the _Daily Planet_ as Clark Kent. Engaged to Lois Lane.” 

J’onn was impressed, and unsure of how much to admit to Batman. It wasn’t his information to give out, but Kal would accept him doing so if it was necessary. J’onn shrugged, and accepted this would be his responsibility. “I would express Kal-el as being solar powered by yellow suns, not photosynthetic. He requires food as a source of nutrition; the sun charges his powers.” 

“Why lead?” 

“There are denser materials, and ones that alter light. I cannot say for certain why lead is a problem for him.” J’onn sorted through Batman’s words, looking for any other inaccuracies. He only found missing information that J’onn considered to be very important. “You are a suspicious individual, as your life has taught you to be. I feel you need to know that Kal-el was sent here with a specific purpose. His father, Jor-el, thought it was his destiny to rule the Earth, turning it into a utopia.” 

Batman didn’t stop fighting the wooden contraption, but J’onn felt Batman believe his words. That an unstoppable force would take over the planet is what many people feared, such as Luthor, but Batman should know that this force would never be Kal. 

“Clark Kent, so easily dismissed by so many, refused that destiny. He believed that humanity would find their own way to utopia. Clark decided to use his gifts to help humanity, instead of controlling them. He is a trusting, genial man, who believes in people. Batman, you call me alien and see only that part of me, but I ask, what is your definition of humanity? If you let yourself look, you will find that Clark fits that definition.” 

“If you’ve said your piece, I need to shower before we disembark.” Batman’s voice was controlled, emotionless as he stepped away from the spinning wooden arms. When J’onn didn’t say anything more, Batman left the gym. 

J’onn returned to the human form Batman had requested before they boarded the yacht and walked slowly to his bedroom. The guest room was beside Brucie’s room and had a connecting door. The ship’s crew believed J’onn only had a room to keep his clothes in. To them, the tall muscular Swedish man who accompanied Brucie on this trip slept in Brucie’s large bed. 

J’onn assisted this belief as he didn’t sleep in the guest bed. He preferred floating in meditation to lying on the bed. In truth, the connecting door was securely locked and J’onn had never been invited in. A knock on that door and J’onn would meet Batman in the hallway. As soon as they were observed, Brucie would be back; flirting and vacant. 

It was the same tonight, except Brucie did not lead J’onn to the deck for the evening meal. They walked ashore and entered the first restaurant they came to. It was filled with people from all over the world, yet they were all rich tourists. Brucie settled in like he owned the place, and flirted with J’onn as he ordered drinks and pretended he couldn’t read the menu. People noticed, took pictures and seemed to be waiting for Brucie to do something stupid. 

By the time they left the restaurant, talking loudly of nightclubs, the entire place was sure Brucie was drunk off his ass. As far as J’onn could determine, Brucie had only drunk one shot, a flaming shot called a Jedi Mind Trick. J’onn thought the alcohol would burn off on such drinks, but was unsure of the physics and timing involved. Brucie stayed in character as he dragged J’onn back to the docks, and up to the _Van Dross_. 

Muttering about remembering his entrance code to stay undercover, Brucie popped the cover on the electronic lock. The gate swung open, and when he straightened the cover was back in place. Sliding his arm around J’onn’s waist, Brucie pulled him to the main deck, where an intimate table for two was set up. 

“What the hell?” Luthor demanded from where he sat, hand reaching for the communication device on his wrist. 

“Lexy, is that you?” Brucie asked. 

“What are you doing on my boat?” Luthor and Brucie asked each other, and J’onn knew Bruce had timed it that way. 

“Lexy, this is my boat, I can’t remember the name but all of yours are Luthor something’s.” 

“I am not that egotistical.” Luthor said as he stood and tossed his napkin down. 

“Since when?” Brucie asked, innocent and insulting. “Wasn’t Luther Van Dross a singer? 

“Mr. Jones, would you escort this person off my yacht?” Lex spoke to the man who had just stepped on deck. 

“Wait, Lex.” The soft call got everybody’s attention, and they looked to where Clark was still sitting. “I wouldn’t mind meeting some new people, if that’s alright with you.” 

“You’ll let me know if the headache starts back up?” Lex asked, but his voice was angry and not concerned. 

“Absolutely.” 

“Fine.” Lex sighed, but had to give in to Clark’s request. “Bruce Wayne, this is Clark.” 

“Clark?” Brucie asked as he covered the distance between them. A gentle stroke on Clark’s face and Brucie answered his question. “If you were a candy bar, I’d eat only you.” 

Even in the low light around the on deck supper table, Clark’s blush was noticeable. 

“Bruce!” Lex’s command cracked across the deck, but he softened his voice to finish speaking. “You haven’t introduced me to your friend.” 

“Huh? Oh, that’s Jon. Isn’t he beautiful?” Bruce said dismissively, now sitting on the table to stare at Clark better. 

J’onn stepped forward to shake Lex’s hand. Lex acted pleasant enough, but he dismissed J’onn as either a gold digger or even dumber than Brucie. J’onn suspected that was the reaction Bruce had expected when he told J’onn to take this form. 

“Bruce, how long are you going to be here?” Lex called as he released J’onn’s hand. 

“Well, if it’s your boat, I don’t think I should stay long.” Bruce twitched an eyebrow at Clark and amended his statement. “Unless I’m invited.” 

Lex reached up to rub the spot directly between his eyebrows. “Bruce, how long are you going to be in Santa Prisca?” 

“A week or four. Why, is there something exciting going on?” 

“No, it’s very dull here Bruce. You’ll probably want to leave in the morning.” 

“Don’t be silly, Lexy, the party is wherever Brucie is!” 

“Be that as it may, I don’t need loud parties from my neighbors.” 

“You have your own loud parties?” Bruce turned excited eyes to Lex, but kept his body toward Clark. 

“No. I have quiet time and a quiet life. Very dull.” 

“Sounds it. How do you stand it, delicious Clark?” Bruce turned back to Clark as he asked, leaning forward in a way that spread his legs. 

Clark looked confused at being dragged into this conversation, even though Brucie seemed only interested in Clark. “I like quiet.” 

“Well, I don’t know enough people here for a good party, so I probably won’t have one. But I can’t promise me and Jon will be considerate at night.” A suggestive wink at Clark and Bruce was up, moving over to put an arm around Jon’s waist. “We’re just a few boats over, if you want to mix and match, Lexy.” 

J’onn let himself be lead off the yacht while he tried to work out what they would be mixing and matching. Wasn’t that a reference to clothing? J’onn was pulled from his line of thinking by Bruce removing his arm. 

“You’ve got those bugs Cyborg made?” 

“Yes.” 

“Go see what Clark and Lex are saying, but only plant a bug if Lex makes a call or does something that looks like business.” 

“Understood.” J’onn faded out and returned to the _Van Dross_. 

Cyborg had presented J’onn with a bag of bugs after Oliver had reported Bruce would act as a spy for them. J’onn told Bruce about them, who told him that Luthor would check regularly for such devices. J’onn was to keep a few on his person at all times, but only activate them when it looked as if Luthor would say something incriminating. 

Floating beside Clark, J’onn could feel Clark struggling with saying something. 

“Lex?” 

“Yes?” 

“Do you think it was Bruce who tried to kill you?” 

Lex laughed. “No, it wasn’t Bruce. He doesn’t have the brains, guts, or creativity.” 

“So it wouldn’t hurt anything if we invited him for supper or something?” 

Lex’s good humor was gone in an instant, but he kept the smile on his face. “Why?” 

“You won’t let me meet people, for security reasons, and I understand that. But if he’s not a threat, what’s the harm?” 

“Bruce Wayne is …” Lex stopped his words as he considered something. “Completely normal. Spending time with Bruce will show you how the rest of the world is. He sleeps late, so go over and have lunch with him and his boytoy.” 

“You don’t mind?” 

“Why should I? I think his yacht is the _Nerina_ , but I’ll look it up to make sure.” 

“Thanks, Lex.” Clark beamed across the table and Lex smirked a little. 

In that expression, J’onn saw what Lex had in mind. He would have to watch Lex and Clark for a while yet, but he’d tell Bruce about this discovery. Lex had found a weakness to exploit, the same weakness J’onn had expected to be a strength. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

J’onn knocked on the connecting door. He knew Bruce expected him but thought it would be more polite to knock instead of drifting in. He expected a call to enter, but instead the door unlocked and opened remotely. Bruce had changed into his pajamas but was working on his computer. 

“Luthor has found the flaw in our plan.” 

“Your plan.” 

“As you say.” J’onn inclined his head, even though Bruce wasn’t looking. “Luthor has granted Clark permission to spend time with you, expecting Clark to tire of you quickly.” 

“Part of my charm.” 

“Part of your disguise, it is an effort to keep people from spending too much time with you.” 

“Works.” Bruce muttered, but kept his eyes on his screen. 

“It will work on Clark too, and you will not be the disruption this relationship needs. You will have to show Clark the real you, or the plan will fail.” 

“Batman is the real me, and he’s hardly second date material.” 

“I have touched your mind, and I know Batman is much a character as Brucie.” J’onn’s words got Bruce to turn his head, eyes narrowing at him. “Show Clark the man who created those characters, only then do you stand a chance of stopping Luthor.” 

“I’ll deal with Clark, you follow Lex. And only activate one of Cyborg’s bugs after Lex does a sweep for them personally.” 

“I understand. It is very clever of you to use Luthor’s own paranoia of an indication that he is about to do something of note.” 

“I don’t need flattery.” Bruce rolled his eyes as he turned back to his computer. 

“That was not flattery, it was a statement of fact.” 

“Facts I can appreciate.” 

“Remember to enhance your shields for protection while sleeping.” 

“Yes, sensei.” 

J’onn returned to his room, unsure if the Japanese term for teacher was being used sarcastically or not. Without touching Bruce’s mind, J’onn could only hope he took the warning seriously. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

“Knock, knock.” Clark called, walking onto the deck. 

Bruce turned to smile at Clark, keeping his sunglasses over his eyes. The easy, patented Brucie smile wasn’t up to the task of reaching his eyes right now. He was actually nervous, which tended to come across as anger. He’d agreed to the JL’s plan because he couldn’t think of anything else with their limited knowledge. Bruce hated limits. 

“Clark, you look fantastic!” 

Clark blushed a little, clearly not agreeing with that complements. Baggy, floral swim trunks and a t-shirt let him fit in with the rest of the tourists. It was unusual that a young man would wear the large straw hat Clark had on, and he seemed to know it. He muttered something in Bruce’s direction, which could have been a thanks or a question. 

“Sorry, Clark. I didn’t hear that.” Bruce said cheerfully, getting up to move closer to Clark. 

“I was wondering what you and Jon had planned for the day?” 

“Jon’s got some work to do, online or something. I’m just waiting around until he gets done.” 

Clark smile, feeling the connection as Bruce had hoped he would. “I’m in the same predicament, waiting on Lex to get done working.” 

“So you can show me around!” Bruce clapped Clark on the arm, but Clark looked embarrassed. 

“I should explain a few things.” 

“Do you want some coffee and donuts while you explain?” 

“Donuts? It’s almost lunch time.” 

“You want lunch then?” 

“No! I mean, I wasn’t asking for lunch, I just thought it was a strange time to have donuts.” 

“Ask for whatever you want. I’m sure my steward can get it.” 

“Brucie, that’s not the point!” Clark reached up to rub at his temple, embarrassed by his outburst. “I just wanted to say I have a head injury.” 

“From what?” Bruce tried to keep his voice neutral, neither angry nor nervous. His effort in making Clark comfortable had annoyed the man, so that was the wrong approach to take. What was the right approach, then? 

“I was Lex’s bodyguard, and I got shot in the head while protecting him.” Clark finally muttered, clearly uncomfortable about what many would consider a heroic injury. 

“Funny, I didn’t hear about that.” 

“Lex kept it quiet, so the assassin wouldn’t know I was still alive. They had to leave the bullet in my brain or I’d have died on the table. I get debilitating headaches and I lost my memory.” 

“That’s terrible!” Brucie gasped, showing his sympathy. 

“I didn’t tell you for the pity.” Clark looked up to frown at Bruce. “I just want you to know I have to limit my activities and sun exposure.” 

Bruce dialed back a bit on the Brucie response, and tried for playful. “Hence, if that’s the word I want, the hat.” 

“Yes.” 

“And you’ve been dating Lex since?” 

“Lex has been taking care of me ever since I was injured, not dating me.” The distinction was important to Clark, so Bruce had to reevaluate what he was about to say. 

“If you say so, but I know what I saw the other night.” A playful voice and eyebrow that twitched suggestively at Clark. Keep it playful, keep it light and that would relax Clark, or so Bruce hoped. 

“Clearly, this was a mistake.” Clark muttered and stared at the ground. 

“What, trying to make a new friend?” Bruce snapped in irritation, before he thought about what emotion to try for. 

Clark looked up at that, studying Bruce. Bruce shrugged at him and spoke without planning. 

“Maybe you just chose the wrong person. I’m a bit of an acquired taste.” 

“You’re the first person that …” Clark stopped and looked away. 

“That Lex has let you meet?” 

“He’s concerned about my safety.” 

“Clark, let me say something.” Bruce stopped, waiting for Clark to nod at him. “If you ask around, you’ll find I’m an idiot. Lex is not an idiot and you don’t seem like one either. Lex has tried on six separate occasions to acquire Wayne Enterprises, but hasn’t for one simple reason. I don’t trust Lex.” 

“That’s business.” 

“Business is life to Luthor. I am going ashore, to have lunch at a local restaurant. I would be pleased to have you join me, but only if you want to.” 

“You’re wrong about Lex.” 

“But I can pick a great restaurant.” Bruce shrugged, and headed for the dock. When he heard footsteps behind him, Bruce knew Clark would join him and relaxed a little. Clark might be looking to convince Bruce he was wrong, or he might be interested in spending time away from Lex. Bruce was fine with either reason, as any reason was the beginning of separating Clark from Lex. 

Lunch was quiet, as they stretched out talk of such challenging subjects as weather (hot) scenery (beautiful) and food (delicious). Bruce could have kicked himself, if he’d been standing up, because he felt the ground he’d gained slipping away. He couldn’t think of anything to say. 

Batman had a few choice words about Luthor’s trail of destruction and calloused disregard for his own species, if he was human after all. Even with proof, such a discussion would reveal the wrong things about Bruce and irritate Clark. Brucie and his empty headed stare got people to drop their guard and say incriminating things around him. Clark didn’t know anything incriminating, and Clark was taking the conversational lead from Brucie. One of Brucie’s tales of Gotham nightlife wouldn’t convince anyone Bruce was worth knowing. Yet, J’onn had seemed so sure that only the real Bruce would interest Clark. Bruce finished his bottle of water and hoped the real him would be interesting, if he ever showed up. 

“Clark, you feel up to a walk around town?” 

Clark finished his water, a delaying tactic if Bruce had ever seen one. Clearly, Clark found Bruce as boring as Bruce did. 

“Sure Bruce. That was a great meal, and I’d like to see a little more of the town.” 

“Great!” Bruce said, throwing the Brucie smile out there. The look Clark gave him showed the smile looked as fake as it felt. Bruce let it drop and paid the bill before Clark could change his mind about the walk. 

The town was more interesting than Brucie, and Clark kept his attention on it. Bruce saw things his way, unsure of how much to point out to Clark. He seemed so innocent, despite what J’onn said about his fact based memory being intact. Clark grinned down at the kids selling crap to tourists and patted their heads. He didn’t have any money on him, yet the kids still lined up for him and not Bruce. The kids could tell that Clark would be nice to them; the more cynical hoping Clark could talk Bruce into parting with his money. 

Bruce saw the street around them, and he saw what was wrong with it. The people here were the tourists and people selling them stuff. The paved street was closed to vehicles, so tourist wanting anything would see all the other things available here. Hotels at either end, so a vacationer left his hotel for a meal and passed ten shops. If the brightly lit, air conditioned, fancy stores weren’t what you were looking for, the next street over had it. 

The next street over was accessible through several narrow alleys, with quaint names. It was an easy to decipher code, but one that let anyone claim they didn’t know. Even the government couldn’t be held responsible for the historically preserved names in the English of the ousted colonizers. Honey lane lead to the women who could still pass as virgins. Kinked Hose Street lead to prostitutes who did kink. Mandate was the smallest section of people for sale, as homosexuality was still a crime here. Or it was a crime if the government didn’t get their cut. 

It was the alley beside the toy store that made Bruce want to vomit up his lunch, and unleash Batman. Nursery Street, a jaunty little sign declared. Under the sign stood two kids, too young to easily determine their sexes. One saw Bruce looking, and put a thumb in its mouth, making it look even younger. Bruce turned away, closing his eyes behind the sunglasses. 

“Bruce, you okay?” Clark asked, hesitation in every word. 

Bruce didn’t answer, let the concerned hand touch his arm and feel the tension there. 

“Is it those kids? The place isn’t that big, they’ll find their way home.” 

“Home?” Bruce snapped his eyes open to target Clark and pulled him around so Bruce could growl in his face. “You moron, they’re for sale. They don’t have a home; they have a brothel and a pimp.” 

“How do you know?” Clark was confused and startled, but he knew Bruce was sincere. 

Bruce’s anger diverted from Clark with that question, back to the corrupt government that encouraged this sort of thing. Clark had asked the right question, asking for proof or reasoning, when Bruce had expected incredulity and a dismissal of Bruce’s viewpoint. Bruce released his hold on Clark’s t-shirt and fought to regain his control. 

“It’s what this place is famous for. Corrupt, inhumane government that exports narcotics and prides itself on sex tours. A million dollar docking fee, and the government will declare it an act of war if anyone attacks those boats.” 

“What are you doing here, if you think so little of the place?” 

“Trying to help someone. Not telling, so don’t ask.” 

“Okay.” Clark considered for a moment. “That’s good, you know. Helping a friend, even when it goes against what you’d prefer. Besides, it’s not like you can help them all.” 

“What?” Bruce’s anger resurfaced, boiling and directed at himself. There had to be more he could do, as there was so much that needed doing. 

“You could adopt these kids, but there would still be thousands left behind. You could spend all your money giving them an education, but with no other jobs, they’ll be smart hookers. That’s just how it is, you can’t fix everything.” 

“No, but I can give them one moment of happiness to hold against the darkness of this world.” Bruce said, and shoved past Clark and into the toy store. 

He scanned the aisles as he walked, seeing and dismissing toys. Sporting equipment wouldn’t work, as there was enough competition for johns and more than enough physical activity in their jobs. Dolls were out, as most of these kids would have kids of their own the day after they hit puberty. Fake makeup was pointless, as they probably knew how to apply the real stuff to make them look even younger. Electronic toys were cool, but needed batteries and spare parts. He wanted to give them books, but they’d wind up on the cooking fire years before these kids even knew what reading was. 

“Bruce?” 

“What?” The snarl he turned on Clark made the man flinch, and hold up the teddy bear in self-defense. 

Bruce considered it, pink, fluffy, with a yellow ribbon on its neck, minimal resemblance to a real bear. Stuffed animals; cuddly after a long day, cheerful colors in a drab world. Not much resale value, so the pimps could destroy them but wouldn’t if it took effort on their part. 

“Kids love teddy bears, they’re cute.” Clark offered with a small shrug. 

“Get the salesclerk. We need large bags and some scissors.” 

“Scissors?” 

“We have to cut the tags off so the pimps don’t try to return them for the money.” 

Clark did as instructed, bringing every clerk in the store over. It was a strange assembly line, carrying stuffed animals to the counter. Once they were rung up, Bruce cut off the tags and shoved the toys into a large mesh bag for sports equipment. Bruce didn’t even look at the price when every stuffed thing in the store was in his bags. He let them run his credit card, and used cash to get locals to help carry the bags. They weren’t heavy bags, just big and awkward to carry, so they could only carry two each. 

Bruce led the parade to Nursery Street, scraping the walls of the alley with his bags. The children flocked to them, but didn’t bother trying to look appealing. Curiosity pulled them to the parade, and Bruce started whistling. Loud and tuneless it got everybody’s attention and brought them out, until the crowd stopped car traffic. 

“Clark, one critter each.” 

Clark’s face lit up and he dropped his bags. Opening the first one, he smiled as he handed them out. Bruce almost grinned at the joy on Clark’s face, but he knew too much about the real world. Pulling his sunglasses out of his pocket, Bruce put them on. They hid his eyes, and allowed him to watch the adults in the crowd. Slowly, it dawned on them that Clark was handing out toys and not money. He was distracting their workers, and they were not making money. 

An ugly murmur was bouncing around pimps as they started calling in the muscle. Bruce moved behind Clark and paid off the locals who’d carried in the toys. They left quickly, just as aware as Bruce of what was coming. Bruce kept the bags close to Clark, watching as they emptied. As the last bag emptied, so did the street. Cars had stopped coming, so Clark looked up after a last thankful hug from a confused child, and saw only angry men. 

Bruce sounded happy when he spoke, in the fluent Spanish he wouldn’t even admit to a passing familiarity with. _“Panderers of Santa Prisca, nothing done here today has cut into your profits. Attack us, and know your hospital bills will.”_

Clark stood and tried to match the pose Bruce was in, stance and shoulders wide, head tucked in to protect his throat and hands in large fists. 

Bruce elbowed Clark gently and whispered to him. “Back to the main road, but walk.” 

Clark didn’t argue and they made their way carefully back to the alley. Once there, Bruce pushed on Clark, until Clark faced the main road and Bruce covered their backs. Back on the main road, they could hide in the crowd of tourists. Bruce would make sure they weren’t followed back to the yachts, even if he had to get them rooms at the hotel. Might be suspicious, since their only luggage was the mesh bag Clark still had in his hand. 

“You could have left the bag. They’ll find a use for it.” Poor people were very good at recycling, since they couldn’t afford a disposable world. 

“There was still something in it.” Clark shrugged, and looked away. 

Bruce didn’t need to be an expert in body language to know Clark was up to something. Bruce was an expert, but didn’t want Clark to know that. “You can give it to whoever you want.” 

Bruce patted Clark on the shoulder, and detoured into a small café. A cup of coffee and they’d go out a different door than they came in. This time, the silence was comfortable, until Bruce started wondering why. Once he was sure the pimps had left them alone, Bruce headed back to the marina. At the steps of the _Van Dross_ , Clark started flushing before he spoke. 

“Bruce, you said I could give these to anybody I wanted.” 

“Sure, Lex will love it.” 

“Not Lex, some of the yacht staff have kids, and I want to give one to you.” 

“Me?” Bruce felt like he should laugh or squeal in joy, make some sort of appropriate emotional response, but he wasn’t sure what that would be. 

“Kind of a souvenir. I had a great day, well, not all of it, lunch was strange but what you did today? That, made me feel better than I have since I woke up on the _Van Dross_ , and I was just your pack mule.” Clark dug into his bag, avoiding looking at Bruce. “It’s not really appropriate for kids anyway.” 

It took Bruce a moment to understand the object Clark pulled out at last. Why would anybody want two small pandas kissing? What was he supposed to do with it? For now, he just reached out to take it, grabbing one and pulling. The one in his hand came away, but the other stayed in Clark’s hand. Clark was blushing to match the red ribbon Bruce’s panda wore. 

“Little kids might swallow the magnets, right Bruce?” 

“Sure, Clark.” The words came out without any prompting from Bruce, and he was glad. What was he supposed to do now? Out of desperation, he reached for something Brucie would say, but didn’t use the voice. “Today was special, but I don’t want you to overdo it. You’ve got that head injury and all.” 

“Right.” Clark seemed happy at the reminder, an excuse to leave before things got awkward. “I’m fine right now, feel pretty good actually, but I do have to be careful. So, I’ll see you later?” 

Clark tried for a statement but Bruce heard the question. “You know where to find me, Clark. Have a good evening.” 

“You too!” Clark went and keyed in the new entry code. 

Bruce would have been a gentleman and stayed to watch after his date, but this wasn’t a date. Bruce was the distraction here, and he forced himself to remember that as he made his way back to his yacht. He watched for surveillance and angry pimps as he went, because security precautions fit neatly into the categories in Bruce’s mind. The differences between ‘distracting’ and ‘seducing’ didn’t want to stay in those categories, which was rather irritating. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Clark had returned to his darkened cabin, expecting the day’s exertions to catch up with him. Instead, he lay on his bed and thought about the faces that smiled at him, unsure and sad, as he handed out gifts. It was hard to move past those faces that deserved so much more than a stuffed animal, but he thought about when he had finished handing out the toys. Angry, threatening faces, adults who saw the children as goods to be traded had targeted him and Bruce. 

Standing with his back to Bruce’s should have terrified him, waiting to be attacked by a vastly larger force. It must have been his stint in the army that he couldn’t remember or his time as a bodyguard, but it had been invigorating. Clark was grinning as he thought about it, until someone knocked on his door. 

“You in there, Clark?” Lex called. 

The smile slid off Clark’s face as he sat up. “Come in.” 

Lex entered and smiled down at Clark. “How was your day with Brucie?” 

“Not as bad as you expected.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lex’s smile was gone before he finished the question, though he tried to keep his voice neutral. 

“You thought it would be so awful, I’d never leave the boat again.” 

“Clark, why would I want you unhappy?” Lex tried to sound reasonable and sat on the bed beside Clark. He wasn’t touching Clark, his version of giving Clark some space. “I might not be able to show it, but I care about you. Your happiness is important to me.” 

“I’m not stupid Lex. I don’t know what your plan was, or why you felt it was necessary, but I do know you had a reason for sending me out to meet with Bruce.” 

“I see. One date with Bruce and you’re ready to move on to the next billionaire.” 

“What? It wasn’t a date and it didn’t mean I was leaving you.” 

“Accusing me of ulterior motives is pretty much the end of romance.” Lex offered with more of a snarl than a smile. 

“Lex, please, I don’t want to fight. I just know being around Bruce today made me feel good about myself.” 

“I expected that, he makes coma patients seem like geniuses.” 

“If he’s a dumb as you think, why haven’t you taken over his businesses?” 

“Did he say something about that?” 

“No.” 

“Clark, you’re still a terrible liar.” Lex offered a real smile with his words, a bit of real appreciation for Clark. 

“He said you tried a few times.” Clark shrugged, knowing he couldn’t resist Lex when he was being genuine. 

“Brucie’s single contribution to the world, is his ability to pick the right people to take care of him. And half of that I put down to the fox that runs his company. I’ve offered Mr. Fox a great deal to come work for me, but I can’t match the autonomy he has at Wayne Enterprises.” 

“Autonomy? Maybe he’s just loyal.” 

“He’s too smart to be loyal to Brucie.” 

“Maybe there’s more to him than you think?” Clark offered, thinking of the man who’d stared down a street of angry pimps. 

“Who? Lucius Fox or Brucie?” 

“Both.” 

“Not both, just say you mean Brucie.” Lex was up, starting to pace beside Clark’s bed. “In half a day you’ve found that redeeming feature the media has missed for decades, the one that makes you question me about everything.” 

“Lex, that’s not it at all! Can’t I make a point without you reading betrayal into it?” 

“I got your point, Bruce is not brain dead. Can we talk about something else?” 

“I just wanted to tell you about my day.” Clark stood, hoping to find a way to calm Lex down. 

“Fine, tell me every little detail.” Lex snapped, pausing to stare at Clark. “Tomorrow, you can go over and see him again. Whenever I’m not here, hell, even when I am here, you go hang out with Brucie. I’ll learn to be fine with it.” 

“Lex, I want to spend time with you. Please believe me.” Clark stepped forward, palms facing Lex in a pleading posture. Lex stood stiffly but allowed Clark to hug him. Clark didn’t allow himself to breathe deeply until Lex hugged him back. Lex pulled back first, and Clark let him go. 

“You ready for supper?” Lex asked, in the softer tones he normally used on Clark. 

“Yeah, I’ll just freshen up a bit and meet you on deck.” Clark watched Lex leave before moving to his bathroom. Clark stared into the mirror for a long minute, wondering who the man there was. Would that man have buried his feelings and instincts so he didn’t lose his one chance at learning who he was? 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Bruce wasn’t getting enough exercise, and he knew it. Five hours in the gym didn’t really compare to a night on patrol, in full gear, with his adrenaline pumping. He’d slept six hours last night, and tossed for two before he gave it up. 9 am was an unholy hour to be awake, but up he was. He’d settled into a lounge chair with his laptop, hoping he’d nap like a normal tourist, and pulled up some paperwork. Paperwork from accounting would surely put him into a coma, at least until afternoon. 

“Bruce?” 

While looking up at his name, Bruce glanced over his screen’s clock. 10 am was an unholy hour to have happy visitors. 

“Hey, Clark.” 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah, just not a morning person.” 

“Then why are you up? I mean, not to be rude, but you don’t seem to have a full schedule.” 

“Vacations are supposed to be about living in the moment, right?” A broad gesture indicated the lounge chair beside him, and Clark sat down on it. 

“I guess. What are you doing?” 

“I was trying to read through some reports from accounting, but I’m not awake enough to make sense of them.” 

“Switch to something more interesting, if there is such a thing in the business world.” 

An idea struggled into Bruce’s mind, and he was ringing for the steward before it was fully formed. Superman was all about helping, but this version of Clark didn’t think helping was possible. He’d woken up to Lex’s indoctrination, after all. 

“Yes, sir?” Ryan, the steward, the Alfred at sea, was standing humbly before Bruce. 

“Ryan, this is Clark. Anything he wants, he gets. Do we have a laptop he can borrow?” 

“Yes, sir. I will go get it. Does the gentleman want anything else?” 

Clark looked embarrassed, as if spending his remembered life on Lex’s yacht still hadn’t gotten him used to servants. “Some ice tea if you got it, thanks Ryan.” 

Bruce waited until Ryan had bowed off to look at Clark. 

Clark flushed under the look. “So, what do I need a computer for?” 

“You’re going to help me on the more interesting paperwork.” 

“I don’t know anything about business stuff.” 

“How do you know? Has it come up in your time with Lex?” 

“No. He’s got an office in town that he uses, so I don’t get bored with his work.” 

“So instead of risking you getting bored with his business dealings, he leaves you for a full work day, ensuring that you’ll get bored.” 

“Well, yes, but my headaches keep me from doing too much.” 

“If you start to get a headache, tell me and you can quit. Besides, this isn’t business stuff.” 

“It’s not?” 

Ryan emerged from the ship and placed a laptop on the table between them. A second man followed with two glasses and a pitcher of ice tea. Bruce thanked them even as he powered up the second laptop. Clark waited until the men had left to continue the conversation, which Bruce thought was a legacy of hanging out with Lex. 

“What are we doing?” 

“Wayne Enterprises has a charitable foundation that people send in grant requests to. There’s a team of people who go through and make sure the requests are from legitimate nonprofits and have filed the request according to all the rules. If I have time, I like to look through them for organizations that might be worth some extra investing. So we’re going to read through the applications, and you can mark the ones you think I need to see.” 

Clark frowned at the long list of files Bruce had transferred to the computer while he spoke. “That’s a lot of charities.” 

Bruce turned his computer so Clark could see the list on it. 

“Ah.” Clark said, while searching for something better to say. “I’ll get started on my ten percent then, shall I?” 

Bruce almost laughed and went on with his work. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Lex returned from his office to find Clark was on the deck. He was in the shade and staring out to sea with his sunglasses on but didn’t seem to be in pain. Turning to Lex, Clark didn’t have the huge grin he normally got when Lex showed up. Lex moved to his side, giving Clark a peck on the cheek before he sat to look out at the sea. That got Clark’s attention, even as Lex made it seem like a commonplace event. It was his sixth chaste kiss at a moment of inattention and Clark reacted less to each one. Lex decided his schedule could proceed, with or without Bruce interfering. 

“How are you feeling, Clark?” 

“I spent most of the day in the shade, but I didn’t get a headache from my limited sun exposure. I’d like to think I’m getting better.” 

“People can get used to anything, even a bullet in the brain.” 

“Yeah, anything.” Clark replied in a soft voice. 

Lex turned to look at him, instead of the sea. “What’s wrong?” 

“I was wondering if you do charity work.” Clark kept looking at the sea, hiding behind his sunglasses. 

“Lex Co donates five million to charity annually.” 

“Which charities?” 

“I’ve got people who handle that. Why, did you have someone in mind?” 

“No. I wanted to know if it was something you cared about or a PR stunt.” Clark’s eyes darted to Lex and back to the sea. 

“Clark, you’re so innocent.” Lex enjoyed that about Clark, and it showed in his condescending tones. “All charity is a PR stunt and anyone who says differently is trying to get your money.” 

“Do I have money?” 

Lex was as surprised by the question as Clark. “That’s a question you never asked before.” 

“And like all the other questions, you don’t know.” Clark sighed, feeling this would be another question Lex refused to answer. 

“Actually, I know exactly how much money you have, I’m just not ready to tell you yet.” 

“Afraid I’ll take it and run?” This comment wasn’t like sweet, innocent Clark, and Lex gripped the arm rest of his chair. 

“No, Clark, you’ll ask where it came from and that’s what I’m not ready to tell you yet.” 

“Did I do something illegal?” The trepidation in Clark’s voice made Lex smile. 

“I’m going to go check on dinner.” Lex stood and walked away. Behind him, Clark’s mind would be churning over this possible revelation about his past, thinking of worst case scenarios. When Lex told him the real reason behind his wealth, he’d be so relieved and grateful he’d believe whatever Lex told him. One tiny fly in the proverbial ointment, that had the brain of a fly. Tucked into his office, Lex made a call on the comm. watch he wore. 

“Mr. Jones?” 

“Yes, Mr. Luthor?” 

“I’ll walk myself to work tomorrow. You will pretend to leave with me and instead follow Clark. Don’t interfere, just report on his activities.” 

“Understood, sir.” 

“Rudy, subtlety is not you best skill, so don’t mess this up.” 

“He won’t see me, I promise.” 

Lex turned off the comm. and put a happy face on before going to eat. Wayne was as famous for his charity work as he was for his playboy image, so Lex knew it wasn’t a coincidence that Clark suddenly asked about such things. Bruce could be easily dealt with, but only if he seemed to be interfering with Lex’s careful plans. Maybe, if he was careful, Lex could even use Bruce to convince Clark he should stay with Lex. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Clark woke from his favorite dream and started to get ready for his day. He often dreamed of flying, as he figured most people did, but that wasn’t the dream he had last night. His favorite dream was sitting at the breakfast table, talking to a man and woman. He could taste the eggs and toast, and the milk had a thickness to it that the stuff on board didn’t match, but he couldn’t see the faces he talked to. Words like Mom and Dad came out of his mouth and he loved the way the man said son. Mom called him Clark and sweetheart, and he felt content there. 

Clark didn’t feel content on the yacht, which was obviously worth more than the kitchen in his dreams. A quick breakfast on deck and Clark was going to visit Bruce, despite Lex’s objections. Lex seemed so sure and confident in everything, yet Clark was having trouble accepting Lex’s hatred of Bruce. It didn’t match the Bruce Clark was coming to know, nor the idiot Bruce pretended to be. Clark really hoped Bruce was up, as he stepped onto the _Nerina._

On deck, a man and woman were arguing with Bruce. The woman had a multicolored scarf hiding her hair and large sunglasses hiding her eyes. The man wore a suit and carried a large messenger bag, but Clark saw a bit of scarlet poking out of the suit around his neck. It didn’t look like an undershirt, so what would the man be wearing under his rumpled suit? Bruce was in his gray pajamas and a black, silk housecoat, as if he’d been awakened by his guests. 

“Brucie,” the woman was speaking, very slowly and carefully. “We need to give this to Jon, and only Jon.” 

“Miss, can I call you miss since you haven’t introduce yourself? I don’t know where Jon is. Best I can do is promise you that I will give him the thing, if you give me your phone number.” Bruce’s voice dropped to a suggestive purr, and Clark saw the woman ready her arm to slap him. 

“Bruce?” Clark asked, getting attention of everyone on deck. “Am I interrupting?” 

The man jabbed the woman in the ribs, and she slapped his arm. They both grinned at Clark like they were happy to see him. Clark wondered if that was because they were tired of talking to Bruce. 

“Clark, you’re never an interruption.” Bruce’s voice held the same purr that he’d used to ask for the woman’s phone number. “These two wanted to talk to Jon, and won’t believe he’s not here right now.” 

“Clark, how are you feeling?” The man asked, and got another slap from the woman before she spoke. 

“What he means is, it’s nice to meet you, and how are you?” 

“To meet somebody, don’t you have to exchange names?” Bruce asked in a confused voice. 

Clark bit back a small laugh. “I’m Clark, and I’m doing fine.” 

The man rushed forward to shake Clark’s hand. “Call me Bart, you have no idea how great it is to see you walking around and shaking hands, though the hat is a bit weird.” 

“Bart!” The woman cut through his rapid fire speech and reached for Clark’s hand. “I’m Dinah.” 

“It’s nice to meet you both, but Jon’s not here. You can trust Bruce to give him the message though.” 

Bart leaned in to whisper at Clark. “Are you sure? He seems a bit flaky.” 

“I’m sure.” Clark whispered back, though he was sure the description could be used on Bart. He was trusting a man he just met that another man was trustworthy. 

Bart walked slowly over to Bruce, digging something small out of his pocket. He held it out for Bruce to take hold of, but didn’t let it go right away. 

“Give this to Jon. Don’t try to look at it, just give it to him. Okay?” 

“Got it, give it to Jon.” Bruce managed to reply without dropping the smile from his face. 

Clark had expected irritation and was pretty sure anyone who talked to Lex that way would soon be broke and in jail. Bart and Dinah turned back to Clark, and he could only offer a weak smile to their scrutiny. 

“Are you two going to wait around for Jon to get back or what?” Bruce asked, sounding politely confused despite the rudeness of his words. 

“No, we need to go.” Dinah said, grabbing at Bart’s arm. She dragged him away as she smiled at Clark. “It was nice meeting you Clark.” 

“You too, Dinah, Bart.” Clark watched them go, before turning to Bruce. “What was that about?” 

“I’ll have to ask Jon when he gets here.” 

“Where’d he go? I thought he worked below decks or something.” 

“I’m not his nanny.” Bruce gave a one shoulder shrug, as the delivered object was put in his pocket. 

“No, but I’d thought you’d have some idea where your boyfriend went.” 

“Boyfriend?” Bruce gave a small chuckle. “I bet that’s not what Lex called it.” 

Clark had to blush and tell the truth. “He might have used the words boy and toy, but that’s just how Lex is.” 

“Blow his mind, tell him I’m Jon’s boytoy. Call the steward if you need anything, I’m going to get dressed.” 

As Bruce disappeared into the ship, Clark got comfortable. This was Bruce’s boat and he was rich enough that he didn’t have to work. So who was Jon that Bruce thought Lex would believe Bruce was the toy here? Bruce had said he was here to help a friend, but he didn’t seem to be doing much. Jon’s guests had seemed thrilled to see Clark for some reason, but why? Clark’s thoughts were interrupted as Ryan came out with the laptop and ice tea. Bruce must have called Ryan and asked him to do this. 

“Thank you, Ryan.” 

“My pleasure, sir.” A formal bow and Ryan left. He held the door open as he stepped aside, letting Bruce onto the deck. Bruce thanked him and found a place to sit next to Clark. 

“Ready for another long day of reading about all that’s wrong in the world?” Bruce asked, not quite jokingly. 

“I am. I might not be able to do much without getting migraines, but at least by helping you with this I can pretend I’m productive.” 

“Lex didn’t provide you with anything to do while he was at work?” 

“Mostly I slept or read books. When I first woke up, the lights hurt so bad I wanted to scream. I avoided sunlight after that.” 

“Did you want to go below? I’ve got several rooms down there, I think.” 

“No, this is fine. I’ve actually started feeling better, since I’ve been hanging out with you in the sunlight.” 

“Vitamin D, it’s good for what ails you.” 

“I don’t think vitamins are going to get rid of the bullet in my head.” 

“Radioactive, lead seeking vitamins from another planet?” 

Clark laughed, out of surprise and humor. Who knew Bruce had a sense of humor, buried under layers of, of what? Clark thought about it and decided the layers were a disguise. Now all he had to do was figure out what Bruce was hiding under those layers, and why. Grinning, Clark went back to his list of charities, but the smile slid away quickly under the lists of what was wrong in the world. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

“Mr. Jones, come find me.” In the shadow of the _Van Dross_ , Lex pulled his comm. away from his mouth. It was hard to wait, but he wanted a full report before seeing Clark tonight. 

Bruce was pretty and rich. That was all. So what could Clark possibly see in the man? A full head of hair? Clark had never been that shallow, but he’d been different after the injury. He’d been easier to anger, frustrated, and jaded. Lex could work with that, but part of him missed the hopeful innocent Clark had always been. 

“Mr. Luthor.” Rudy landed softly on the dock beside Lex. “I watched Clark all day. I stayed out of sight and listened in, and nobody saw me.” 

“It’s nice to know you can work those powers I acquired for you. Now what did you see?” 

“Clark went to the _Nerina._ A man, Bart, and a woman, Dinah, were looking for Jon. They had something to give him, but were reluctant to leave it with Bruce. Clark said Bruce was alright, and just like that they gave Bruce the item. Clark and Bruce spent the rest of the day reading stuff on laptops. They stopped for lunch and talked about charities and the problems in the world, but then went back to reading.” 

“Reading and charity work?” 

“That’s all I saw, sir.” 

“Clark’s bored.” Lex grinned at this, knowing Clark was still his. Clark had always been a smart guy, great grades despite never doing homework or making it to all his college classes. Lex had thought Clark would come to him and ask for something to do eventually, but this worked too. “Rudy?” 

“Yes, sir?” 

“Plant some bugs on the _Nerina_ , and tomorrow you find out who this Jon is.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Expecting his orders to be carried out, no matter how it had to be done, Lex went to find Clark. He was leaning against the railing and smiled when he saw Lex coming. Lex smiled back, without planning it out. Clark made him happy and he’d been a fool not to see that before he almost lost Clark to the destiny of his powers. Lex went directly for a kiss on the lips, breaking away and speaking before Clark could react to the kiss. 

“You’ve inspired me, Clark.” 

“What?” Clark stuttered out the word, in shock over the kiss. 

“I’m going to do more charitable works, and you’ll be in charge of it.” 

“Me?” 

“I’ve wanted to do more for awhile but not had the time. Unlike some people, I can’t just stand back and let others run my business for me.” Lex could have said his piece without insulting Brucie, but didn’t see a reason to. “So I’ll handle making money, and you’ll be in charge of seeing that it gets to people who need it.” 

“Lex, that’s fantastic!” Clark was smiling, a hand on Lex’s shoulder. “I know we can’t fix everything but we might be able to make one person’s life better. If you’re sure you want me to be in charge?” 

“Sure? Of course I’m sure. You’re the kindest person I know.” Lex stroked a hand through Clark’s hair, fingers curling around the back of his head. “Don’t you know how I feel about you?” 

“Lex?” Clark asked, deliciously confused and uncertain. 

Lex turned his grin into a frown, pulling away and looking at the deck. “Sorry, Clark. I don’t want to rush you.” 

“I thought I was your bodyguard.” 

Lex put his hand in his pockets, and turned away with his head bowed. “For two years, but only the first sixth months were you just a bodyguard.” 

“Oh, Lex.” 

A gentle hand landed on Lex’s shoulder, and he allowed himself to relax under it. Changed or not, Clark would never allow someone to hurt when he could prevent it. 

“I should have seen why you were so protective of me.” Clark’s voice was shaking as he tried to work around this new information. “When Rudy made all those comments about my boyfriend, I didn’t realize he was talking about you.” 

“It’s fine, Clark. I can wait for you. Let’s forget this happened, and go get dinner.” Moving away from the hand, Lex left Clark on deck. 

It would never occur to Clark that Lex’s instructions to Rudy had been very clear on what to say to Clark, when he first woke up and ever since. Clark would be bashful through supper and Lex would get a kiss goodnight before they separated. In two weeks, according to Lex’s timetable, Clark would be sharing his bed permanently. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

J’onn watched Clark’s face as he kissed Lex goodnight, seeing only confusion and fear. Clark’s remembered life was clashing against what he felt. J’onn was proud of Clark for this discrepancy, for Clark realizing that something was wrong here. Lex had been kind and caring throughout Clark’s ordeal, but Clark could tell this was because Lex had chosen to present himself this way. Knowing this, Clark had to wonder why Lex was trying so hard. Bruce’s hesitant openness was showing Clark how a real relationship was formed. 

Clark retreated to his room first, so Lex didn’t have to hide his smug expression. Lex went into his bedroom and J’onn went to make his report to Batman. He wasn’t surprised to find Batman in his room, working a different computer than the one his charity information was on. J’onn rematerialized in his room and knocked on the connecting door. It opened without having to unlock, which showed Batman was expecting J’onn for his nightly report. 

“Batman, Luthor has a detailed schedule for seducing Clark.” J’onn spoke, as he floated silently into the room. 

“Doesn’t surprise me. His plans are meticulous, just built on fundamentally unsound ideas.” 

“He ordered Mr. Jones to plant surveillance gear on your yacht.” 

“Took him long enough.” 

“Mr. Jones spied on you today, mentioning that Bart and Dinah visited.” 

“I would have told you if you let me get a word in edgewise.” 

“I do not talk that much … That was a joke.” 

“Yes, sorry. I was putting off telling you so I could keep working with the footage they left you. Come see.” Batman beckoned over his shoulder, and J’onn went to stand beside him. Batman was playing video footage of a laboratory of some sort. 

Uniformed security guards run into the lab, and ducked behind some metal containers. They were shooting at someone off camera, and the bullets were bouncing back at them. Superman backed into view, fighting without concern about the bullets being fired at him. A solid punch knocked his opponent out and Superman turned to face the shooters. At the same moment, a tank sprung a leak and Superman collapsed. 

The security guards slowly moved forward, as if they expect a trap. Superman is below the view from the camera, but one of the guards kicked him. A few more kicks and the guards start to celebrate. The lack of sound is doesn’t disguise the triumph in the guards’ faces and actions. Something calls for their attention and the guards attempt to look professional, instead of like bullies on a playground. 

Lex strides into view, running the last two steps when he sees Superman is definitely down. Snapping orders, Lex organizes the security guards into picking Superman up and carrying him out of the room. The footage stops after Lex leaves, not showing the cleanup crew and lab personnel that were bound to follow. 

It is the image of Lex’s face that J’onn holds in his mind. There is no triumph on his face, no joy at having destroyed his main enemy. Lex looks as if he’s just realized what he would lose if Superman was really dead. Realizing that Batman is watching him instead of the footage, J’onn turns to him. 

“Yes, Batman?” 

“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t overwhelmed.” Batman was trying for a tone of indifference, and turned back to his screens. 

J’onn knew it was a test of some sort, though he wasn’t sure what passing would involve. “It is difficult to watch a friend in distress, but as I know he lived it does not cause me unacceptable amounts of discomfort.” 

“I’ve been zooming in and studying this footage. The tank had liquid kryptonite, encased in lead to protect the human workers. Clark turns, causing the ricocheting bullet to change angles and puncture the tank. The next bullet gets a coating of liquid k, just enough to penetrate his skull, also weakened by the k. Lex gets him out of the room with the liquid k, and Clark’s skull heals up with the bullet inside.” 

“Luthor saw he was still alive and gave Mr. Jones Clark’s power somehow.” 

“That’s not on the footage Chloe sent, but she did provide some information on Jones as well. The JL ran into him before, but he went by the name Parasite.” 

“I was not present for that, but Chloe informed me of the specifics later.” They had also had several confrontations with Parasite since then, but he had seemed to be unaware of the connection between Clark and Superman. If Chloe had not shared this information, J’onn did not feel it was his place to do so. “Tess Mercer formed a team to stop Doomsday, but they went rogue. Green Arrow almost had to kill Mr. Jones with kryptonite before convincing him to return Clark’s powers.” 

“I’ll probably have to do the same, so I’ve got someone working on that. Once we talk Clark into letting us help, I’ll get his powers back and you can confuse Mr. Jones on where he got those gifts.” 

“As I explained to you, I am hesitant about using my telepathy in such a way.” 

“It’s up to you, but it would keep Mr. Jones from going after Clark, at least until he’s healed.” Batman wanted to make this about protecting Clark, but J’onn believed Bruce had other motivations in mind as well. Perhaps it was another test, to see if J’onn would cross the lines Batman had established. 

“To use a human expression, we will cross that bridge when we come to it.” 

“Have you ever attempted to erase Lex’s memories of Clark?” A casual, offhanded question, except J’onn knew Batman didn’t ask out of politeness. 

“Clark declined when I offered. He was more concerned with the safety of his enemy than his own protection.” 

“Noble, but kind of stupid.” 

“I find that a strange thing for you to say, as you are so concerned with mental privacy.” 

“Lex is dangerous with information.” 

“As are you, Batman.” 

“Well, yes, but I’m only mean to those who break the law.” 

“An interesting distinction.” As was the hesitation before Batman admitted he was dangerous, but J’onn wasn’t ready to discuss that. 

“I also don’t kill. They’re both arbitrary lines that I won’t cross. Lex has, and will again.” 

“Do you have proof that Luthor has killed?” 

“If I had proof, Lex would be in jail.” A firm statement, full of Batman’s considerable conviction. 

“You have not ignored Luthor because he is outside of Gotham, as you claimed at the meeting. You did not want to admit that you were unable to bring him to justice without help.” A touch of surprise showed in J’onn’s voice, but it was his words that had Batman turning to look at him. 

“I never claimed to be super. Don’t you have some mediation to do?” 

“As do you, my student. Goodnight, Batman.” 

It was the anger in Batman’s mind that sent J’onn floating back into his room. The anger in Batman’s words was artificial, but what he really felt was disappointment and anger at himself for not being able to do more. After the door closed between them, J’onn settled into a meditative posture. Despite their obvious differences, Kal and Batman had much in common. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Clark almost didn’t eat breakfast before heading for the _Nerina_. Having news and someone to share it with was exciting and new to him. Only knowing that Bruce wouldn’t be up yet had him walking calmly to the breakfast table. He still ate quickly, before forcing himself to walk at a normal pace to the _Nerina_. Bruce hadn’t yet put in an appearance, but Ryan brought Clark his laptop and some ice tea. 

Clark asked Ryan a few questions about what it was like working for Bruce and got polite but positive responses. Ryan enjoyed working for Bruce but felt part of his job was discretion and protection of Bruce. Clark knew the staff on the _Van Dross_ kept a respectful silence around Lex, but Clark now thought that was fear. Bruce was a self proclaimed idiot, yet Clark found Bruce more likable. Lex had the stress of running his company, while Bruce seemed content with leaving others to do that. Was stress an excuse for how Lex treated people, or was his inability to delegate part of his mistrust in other people? 

“Morning, Clark.” Bruce said, as he slipped onto the deck. At least that’s what Clark figured he said, as Bruce looked immaculate but had dropped all the consonants from his words like he’d left them in his bed. 

“Good morning, Bruce. Did I wake you?” 

“Not really. Want some coffee?” Bruce laid his laptop on the small table and sat down. 

“Only if you’re having some. I’ve got great news.” Clark blurted out. It probably wouldn’t do much good to tell Bruce when he was asleep, but Clark couldn’t wait. Bruce was looking at him, hand hovering over the button to summon Ryan. “Lex is going to put me in charge of his charity giving!” 

Bruce snorted. “A charity drive to keep the little woman at home.” 

“What?” 

Bruce scrubbed a hand over his face and through his hair. “Sorry, my internal filter hasn’t woken up yet.” 

“You said it, now explain it.” Clark thought he might be overreacting to Bruce’s words, but that didn’t lessen his anger. 

“Lex came up with this idea after finding out what you were doing with me. He’ll decorate an office for you, complete with business cards and preselected charities to give the money to. You’ll be busy, but a figurehead. If you say anything, he’ll say it’s just while you learn the ropes. Busy, happy Clark, but still restricted to the yacht.” 

“Bruce, that’s a dark, twisted view of Lex you’ve got there.” 

“He might prove me wrong, if his surveillance is audio as well as visual.” 

“Surveillance?” Clark repeated the word back to Bruce, hating how he always seemed to be two steps behind the rest of the world. “Why would Lex be watching you?” 

“He wouldn’t.” Two words from Bruce, and Clark’s whole world was ready to shatter. 

“Lex wouldn’t be watching me either! He trusts me.” 

“As much as he trusts anybody.” 

“You must have got up on the wrong side of the bed if you think this crap is true.” 

“I can prove it, if you insist.” 

“I’m not going to believe whatever random bug you come up with was planted by Lex.” 

Bruce stood and took two steps toward the door he’d come through a few minutes ago. A few stretches and he turned back to Clark. He bypassed the table to kneel beside Clark. Blinking in surprise, Clark didn’t resist when Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Clark, you can do so much better than Lex.” 

Clark started to protest, but Bruce was kissing him. Having only Lex’s kiss of the night before to compare this to, Clark still knew he was out of his depth. Lex and Bruce were world class bachelors and seducers, so Clark could only kiss back and enjoy the ride. They were both breathing in heavy gasps as Bruce pulled away. Clark wondered what Bruce looked so startled about, when a soft cough got Bruce’s attention. 

Turning away, Bruce stood as he brushed at his hair. “Hey, Alfred.” 

“Forgive the interruption, Master Bruce.” Alfred said, but didn’t sound apologetic. “I have brought that item you requested.” 

“Right. Let’s try the office.” Bruce turned to Clark and offered him a sheepish smile. “I’ll be back in a minute, make yourself at home.” 

“Sir.” Alfred nodded at Clark before following Bruce into the ship. 

Clark went back to his computer, and tried not to think about the way his lips still tingled. He didn’t want to think about the differences between Bruce and Lex anymore. How even Lex’s kisses seemed to be planned and purposeful. Bruce had a reason behind his kiss, somehow expecting it to prove Lex was watching, but also passion. A restrained passion, hinting at so much to be unleashed if given a good reason. Shaking his head, Clark went back to reading, hoping to distract himself from wondering what that reason might be. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Alfred watched as Master Bruce opened the lead box and examined the item inside. It was exactly as he had specified before leaving on this trip, but Bruce still had to make sure. The jeweler had wanted to take longer and make the bracelet fancier, but Alfred had been forceful and made sure Bruce’s design was used. Not that the jeweler knew who he was making it for, or why he had to use the green stone instead of an emerald. 

Alfred had then taken the bracelet into the subbasement of Wayne Manor. Adding the lead cover to the bracelet had been intricate, and Alfred had spent far longer on the controls than he expected. He’d almost called Mr. Fox in to assist when the hinge had clicked into place. It wasn’t an attractive piece, but it was functional in the way Master Bruce had wanted. 

Bruce had been annoyed by this favor to the Justice League when he explained it to Alfred, but it seemed he was making progress. From the kiss he’d witnessed when he walked on deck, Alfred wondered if Clark wasn’t making some progress of his own as well. 

“Thanks, Alfred, this is perfect.” Bruce looked up, with just a hint of a smile. 

“My pleasure, sir.” Alfred gave his own hint of a smile back, having missed his employer. 

“Why’d you bring it yourself?” Bruce had always been able to ask the question his subject didn’t want to answer, but Alfred had years of practice behind him. 

“I thought it would require less explaining if I brought it down personally.” 

“Less bribes, you mean.” That was a reason Bruce could accept, not the more truthful answer of Alfred wanting to make sure Bruce was alright. 

“Perhaps. But the bribe for my effort involved will be substantial.” 

“Put it on my credit card.” 

“Most droll, sir. Instead, I was thinking of recipes.” 

“Recipes? What recipes could you possibly be lacking?” 

“The variations Mister Clark prefers, sir.” 

“Really, Alfred?” Bruce was frowning, as if disappointed in Alfred somehow. “You know this is a plan, right?” 

“Some would also say fate is a plan.” 

“What are you suggesting, Alfred?” 

“Nothing, sir. I simply noticed the kiss and saw how it effected you.” 

“Hormones, you should read up on them.” Bruce said, with a dismissive gesture. 

Alfred smiled back, knowing he was one of the few people Bruce gave all his attention to. This gave him a certain level of leeway when dealing with Bruce. 

“I shall do so, while running your personal affairs, household, business, and extra curriculum activities.” 

“Fox runs the business.” 

“Pardon me for exaggerating, sir.” 

“I’ll agree that Clark is a sexy man, if you agree that doesn’t make us star-crossed lovers.” Bruce sighed, hoping the dramatics would make Alfred go away. 

“If you have no further need of me, I will take my leave. If you would like to continue using me as a sounding board for convincing yourself you are not enjoying your time with Clark, I can stay.” 

“Go.” Bruce was angry, glaring at Alfred. 

Alfred knew better than to grin into that anger, so he bowed and took his leave. Alfred also knew that anger covered the deeper emotions Bruce wasn’t able to understand just yet. Returning to the deck, knowing Bruce needed time Alfred took a good look at the young man there. Clark was staring at his laptop, a finger unconsciously trailing over the lips Bruce had kissed so recently. 

Smiling, Alfred walked toward the dock. The private plane that had brought him here was a few yachts over, and waiting on him to leave. Bruce needed time to work through things, and Alfred considered turning on the internal cameras on the _Nerina_. Master Bruce’s face was always worth watching when he realized something important. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

When Lex presented his gift to Clark, he’d expected a little more gratitude. It was the finest desk this backward country had to offer, and Lex had it delivered to an unused room on the yacht. He’d told Clark it was his office and the rest of the equipment would come later. Instead of Clark instigating sex in appreciation, Lex had to deal with a standoffish Clark the rest of the night. Five million was a huge gift by anyone’s standards, and Clark should have been more respectful of the giver. 

Clark kissed him goodnight, and escaped into his room. Lex was ready to shoot somebody when he returned to his lonely room. Lex had reordered his life to find a way to make Clark a part of it, and he was still sleeping alone. He’d planned all this out; there had to be someone else ruining it, like Brucie. 

Flipping on his equipment, Lex pulled up the recording of the _Nerina_. Watching while rewinding it, Lex watched Clark’s goodbye, and then hours of working with Bruce. They talked as they flipped through the computers before them, but Lex hadn’t specified he wanted audio surveillance. Point of fact, he didn’t want to have to hear Brucie’s stupid voice and the idiotic things he said, so Lex was glad he didn’t have audio. More talking as the two ate lunch, before returning to the laptops. 

Bruce’s butler left alone but walked into the ship with Bruce. That butler was a piece of work, somehow managing to block Lex’s efforts to buy Wayne Manor even before Bruce was legally dead. Bruce comes out and the butler shows up, at the end of … Lex hit the pause button to make sure he wasn’t imagining what stopped the butler in his tracks. Bruce was kneeling beside Clark, kissing him into the lounge chair. 

When he could think again, Lex started the footage and rewound it to where Bruce knelt. Making note of the time, Lex let it play forward in real time. Bruce’s left hand was placed on Clark’s right shoulder. Clark looked surprised, but didn’t fight or tell Bruce to stop, and Bruce kissed him. Clark let it happen, kissed back until he was panting and Bruce had to stop to breath. Four minutes and sixteen seconds later, Bruce pulled back from a dumbfounded Clark. 

The bourbon glass at Lex’s elbow flew through the air to smash on the wall farthest from him. The destructive act helped Lex get his anger under control, but Bruce would still pay for this. Lex would find out just how hard it was to take over Wayne Enterprises when Bruce was legally dead for a second time. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Bruce woke early, mainly because he hadn’t slept well the night before. Yesterday had been awkward. Bruce wasn’t sure if it was because he had kissed Clark, changing things between them, or because of what Alfred said, making him think things had changed between him and Clark. Either way, Bruce was kind of surprised he hadn’t been awakened during the night by Lex and his rampaging control issues. 

Bruce moved onto the deck and worked on convincing himself he wasn’t disappointed that Clark wasn’t already there. He sat down, leaned back and closed his eyes. Hopefully, if Lex had laid a guilt trip on Clark or something more physical, J’onn would have let Bruce know. 

This was such a stupid, untenable situation Bruce had managed to get himself into. He’d agreed to keep Lex from controlling Superman, which would have been very bad. The training with J’onn had been a bonus, and a way to let the JL know this was a favor he’d expect them to repay. Bruce had no idea what he might want the JL to do, but he’d come up with something. The trouble was his stupid human emotions. He liked Clark, something that was not part of his plan. 

Kissing him had seemed like a good idea, but it had affected Bruce in ways he wasn’t ready to quantify. Clark was a sexy man, even dressed in the clothes Lex had picked out for him. Too tight t-shirts and baggy shorts, Lex wanted the world to see Clark was strong, but hide the goodies at the same time. Bruce hoped, if he worked at it, he could convince himself if was just hormones making him think about Clark’s hidden bits. 

It had to be biology, because it would be brain breaking stupid to fall in love with an amnesiac. Clark seemed like a nice guy, smart and interested in making the world a better place. But who was he when he had bills to pay instead of a free yacht? Finding out who a person was when they weren’t trying to please Billionaire Brucie was hard enough, how would Bruce figure that out about a person who didn’t even themselves know who they were? 

“Wayne?” The deep voice accented the name the way the locals did. 

Bruce repressed a sigh; he’d been hoping it was Clark trying to sneak up on him. Cracking open an eyelid, Bruce tried to look hung-over as he answered. “Yeah?” 

“I offer you a choice. Take me from here, or die.” 

Bruce reached up to rub at one eye, as if slowly becoming aware of what was going on. The guy was talking, so he had time to figure out what was going on and what to do about it. Bruce had his suspicions, but he wanted proof. He also kind of wanted a fight, as this vacation was getting on his nerves. “Are you a pirate?” 

“No, prisoner of this place. I serve my father’s sentence, to amuse the government he opposed. They offer me freedom if I kill you, but I know they are lying to me.” 

“Then run away, you know, without killing me.” Bruce hoped the large, well muscled man would take him up on the offer. This was a corrupt country, though Bruce had never heard of the people here doing jail time for the crimes of their parents. 

“They wait on the dock, many armed men. Start the engines, take me away from here. They will not attack you until it is too late.” 

“It’s tempting man, I’ll tell you that.” In a way, it was. Take the prisoner away from his jailers; and Bruce could go back to Gotham and do what he needed to do. Problem was, Bruce could see this guy more clearly than he was letting on. However innocent the boy had been, the man before Bruce was a killer. His body language screamed it at Bruce; this man was a survivor at the cost of many other lives. “Sorry, but I’m here on business, so I can’t leave yet. I can try and get you a new lawyer.” 

“Idiot! Lawyer or not, I will never see a trial. Take me away and I will not harm you.” 

“Can’t, man.” An apologetic shrug. “Why don’t you see yourself out?” 

The man roared his anger as he leaped for Bruce. He projected his move, though, and Bruce had rolled out of the chair and across the deck before the man could adjust. As he turned, Bruce got to his feet, holding out his hands as if to calm his attacker. The man rushed in again and Bruce turned into the movement, jabbing the nose as he passed. Holding a hand to his nose, the man seemed shocked that Bruce had made him bleed. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t piss off the whole government for one guy with a sad story. I can try and find other ways to help you.” 

“I don’t want help.” The man’s anger grew with each word. “I gave you a chance. I am Bane, and I will be the bane of your pathetic life!” 

Nose forgotten, Bane snapped a kick at Bruce, who threw himself into a backward fall. Bruce kicked out at the knee on Bane’s standing leg as he fell and rolled away. Bane crashed into a lunge with his kicking leg in front of him. While he recovered, Bruce rolled to his feet and into a handstand. A solid kick to Bane’s head and Bane toppled to the ground. 

Dimly, Bruce was aware of a voice calling out for the police, but he was watching Bane. Bruce knew the man had more fight in him, he’d just been surprised by the resistance he’d encountered so far. Bane’s handlers had probably told him this would be easy, just kill Wayne and stage a robbery. 

Bane did stand, but looked over Bruce’s shoulder. Footsteps were running onto deck, but it was the noise of a bullet being chambered that convinced Bruce he should risk looking. Bane had been serious when he said large numbers of armed men were waiting on him. He might have been an innocent going in, but clearly the guards believed him capable of violence and harm if that many of them had followed him on this easy errand. 

One of the guards, with fringed pads on his shoulders, came forward to bow at Bruce. He muttered apologetically in Spanish, but Bruce didn’t try for the same level of sorry in his reply. 

“Don’t speak any Portuguese, actually.” 

“Idiot.” Bane growled from where he was being shackled. 

The guard shot Bane a nervous glance and spoke in English. “My apologies, Mr. Wayne, for this. Bane is terrible man, escaped from prison this morning. He will be punished for harming you, Senor.” 

Bruce waved his left hand, the one that didn’t sting from hitting Bane in his nose. “No need for that, no harm done. Instead of punishing him, why don’t you give him stuff to do outside? He’s very pale.” 

“I will think about that, Senor.” The guard said, confused about Bane’s target’s concerned about his tan. Orders in Spanish got the other guards to start dragging Bane toward the docks. 

Bane went, but stared at Bruce until he could no longer see him. Bane was thinking about the strange man who didn’t demand his enemies be tortured and broken. 

Once all the armed men were off the yacht, Clark showed up. Bruce remembered somebody yelling for the cops, and realized it must have been Clark. Bruce tried to smile as Clark came over, emotions darting across his face. 

“Bruce, what was that about?” 

“Robbery gone bad.” 

“Don’t lie to me.” Clark snapped the words out, but sounded hurt at the perceived lie. 

“You don’t really want to know, and you probably won’t believe me.” Bruce didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want to be one of the people who hurt Clark, but Bruce wasn’t about to say that. He wasn’t even sure where the protective impulse had come from. 

“I’ll believe the truth.” Fierce eyes screamed at Bruce, saying they needed the truth even if they didn’t want it. 

“That was an assassin sent by your boyfriend.” 

“Prove it.” 

“I kissed you yesterday, expecting Lex and to come over and throw a hissy fit. Clearly, he cares more about you than I thought.” 

“That’s not proof, that’s circumstantial at best.” Clark folded his arms and tried to look commanding. Bruce saw the move as it was, a method for Clark to hug himself, comforting himself. 

“I’m not a lawyer, but I can think of this like a cop would. Detectives look for three things; means, motive and opportunity. Luthor had the means, but so do all the other yacht owners in this harbor. All those people also have the opportunity to hire an assassin, as I’m a sitting target here, but who else has any motive?” 

“You haven’t pissed off anyone else?” 

“I spend my days with you and my nights with Jon. If he wanted me dead, he could have done it last night.” 

“Bruce, I’m tired. I can’t think today.” 

“Okay.” Clark sounded exhausted, and Bruce didn’t want to talk about feeling anymore either. What would normal guys do in this situation? “Let’s play video games.” 

“Really?” Clark’s eyes lit up, grateful for the offered diversion. 

“First person fighter, strategy, or role playing?” 

“I didn’t take you for a gamer.” 

“I don’t have a lot of time for them, but they’re good for hand eye coordination.” 

“Is that how you defeated that guy?” 

“I didn’t defeat him.” Bruce shrugged and moved over their place to sit. He thought he could beat Bane, but hadn’t in this circumstance. “Bane was surprised that I gave him any resistance and unprepared.” 

“Be prepared, huh?” Clark seemed reluctant to let it go, but didn’t want to pry either. He hesitated as he decided which way to go. “Were you a Boy Scout?” 

“Never. Scout’s honor.” 

Clark shook his head, exasperation on his face. “Let’s start with a shoot ‘em up.” 

Clark smiled when he said this and Bruce forced himself not to smile back. He was the distraction here, not the way Clark’s eyes lit up when he smiled. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Supper with Lex had been the most awkward meal of Clark’s memory. When he first woke up on the boat, Clark had eagerly hung on every word as he tried to remember who he was. Tonight, Lex had tried to look happy but kept shooting glares toward Bruce’s yacht. Lex had asked how Clark’s day went and wilted when Clark told him about playing video games with Bruce. Clark realized that Lex had expected a riveting tale of Bruce’s death. 

Clark excused himself early, claiming he had a headache. He felt strange lying to Lex, even though he knew Lex lied to him frequently. After Bruce had pointed out the surveillance on the yacht, Clark also suspected his room might be bugged. Having said he had a headache, Clark felt he had to change clothes and move slowly, as if movement hurt. Then he was able to turn off the lights and lay in bed. 

This left him a lot of time to think, with his eyes closed. He hoped Lex wasn’t that paranoid, but couldn’t discount the possibility of Lex having night vision on the cameras that watched Clark. Lex had been kind during Clark’s recovery but he was withholding information from Clark. How could he be nice and still refuse to give Clark what he needed? 

Bruce was holding something back, probably lots of things, but not what he thought would help Clark. Bruce was pushing Clark to think for himself, to gather facts to base his opinions on. Lex was offering only conclusions that proved some endgame Clark couldn’t see. Bruce was uncomfortable with showing who he was, surprisingly shy and awkward for the socialite he claimed to be. Lex made Clark feel like a prize in a bachelor action, while Bruce was on stage beside him. 

Maybe, instead, they were in a glitzy ballroom. Women in expensive dresses and real jewels danced around them. The dancer’s motion stirred the white fabric and strings of beads decorating the walls as Clark danced with Lex. They were both in fancy tuxedos as Clark watched himself dance from a distance. 

Dimly he realized this was a dream, but the thought faded as Bruce walked up. He tapped Clark on the shoulder and asked if he could cut in. Lex snarled, his face stretching in impossible ways for a moment. Dancing Clark didn’t notice as he turned away to dance with Bruce. Lex’s face was normal, calm and controlled, but he wouldn’t let go of Clark’s wrist. Clark took a few steps forward, Lex forcing his arm to stretch. 

Clark reached for Bruce, who didn’t hesitate. Bruce grasped his arm and held on, a quiet strength flooding into Clark at the contact. Watching all this, Clark grinned. Bruce would mock him, but Clark was convinced he could do anything with Bruce on his side. It seemed an eternity, but Bruce pulled Clark free of Lex, and they began to dance together. Soon, the dance turned into an exaggerated fight with unseen opponents, but Clark smiled into it. He was enjoying his dream, even if Lex was watching on a monitor next door. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Lex turned up the volume on system. He had a business to run and a hostile takeover of Wayne Enterprises to orchestrate. Clark wasn’t much of a talker in his sleep, but if he called Bruce’s name tonight, Lex was going to redefine the hostile part of hostile takeover. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Clark remembered his dream when he woke, but immediately dismissed the idea of running to Bruce. He liked Bruce more than Lex, but that wasn’t really love. He hadn’t even known the guy a week. Besides, if he pissed off Lex, Clark could kiss his memories goodbye forever. He’d have to play this cool and plan things out. Lex should be pleased that Clark had learned the lessons he taught. Clark went to the _Nerina_ and tried to put yesterday’s kiss behind him. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

J’onn watched Lex at work, as days went by, falling apart. He yelled at the transmitter he had and his meat puppet, as Batman referred to it, calmly fired people and started takeovers of other businesses. J’onn had found the frequency of the transmission three days ago, but was waiting until disruption of that symbol would be the most beneficial to Batman’s plan. 

J’onn had wanted Bruce to slow down the developing relationship between Clark and Lex. Knowing that Bruce had his skills as Batman to protect himself had assured J’onn that Bruce would be safe. The way Clark had taken to Bruce had been unexpected and intriguing. J’onn did not know if that relationship would last once they knew the truth about each other, but he could hope. 

Lex commanded his meat puppet to finish early for the day and slammed down the transmitter. The transmitter was a standard headset and computer but it required a large antenna, which is why Lex had to leave the yacht to work it. J’onn floated invisibly behind Lex as he returned to the yacht, fuming over Mr. Jones inability to find out anything about Jon. A last name might have helped Mr. Jones with his quest, but J’onn wasn’t about to provide one. 

Lex had walked the main road often enough that the locals didn’t bother approaching him. They knew he wasn’t likely to buy from them, but today they cleared a path for him. No one wanted to be the target of his anger, which they could almost feel emanating from him. It was probably the first time he’d left his office early, so there was a reason for their unease. Lex stomped onto the docks, but modulated his walking to stop the noise. Even in his anger, he wanted to control what he presented to Clark. 

“You cheated!” Clark’s voice was soft with distance, but his outrage was clear. 

Lex changed directions and sped up, hoping to catch Clark screaming at Bruce. The end of their friendship could only help Lex’s plans. J’onn felt Lex’s hope and his own concern as they moved toward the _Nerina_. Lex moved onto the ship but stopped where he could see without being seen. J’onn moved onto the deck, grateful for his invisibility. 

Clark was looking at Bruce’s computer screen, over Bruce’s shoulder. J’onn saw the outlines of gray ships on a grid. White dots marked the area around the battleships, but only one ship was marked with three red dots. Changing position, J’onn say Clark’s computer showed all of his battleships were marked with red dots. Clearly, Bruce had won, and Clark had accused him of cheating in a moment of playful banter. Lex would be so disappointed and J’onn turned to watch Lex make this discovery. J’onn was able to see the front of Clark as he read over Bruce’s shoulder. Both were unaware of Lex behind them as they started talking. 

“It’s statistically impossible for you to destroy all my ships while I only hit one of yours.” 

“Statistically unlikely, I believe is the phrase you’re looking for.” Bruce replied, managing not to sound too smug. 

“Either way, you cheated.” 

“How? It’s an online game.” 

“You hacked the system and rewrote the code.” 

“To win a game?” That question came with an eyebrow that Clark had to force himself to frown at. 

“Yes. You’re evil.” 

“Well, call in the Justice League; just tell them not to attack me in battleships.” 

Clark laughed, dropping his head toward Bruce’s shoulder. He looked up to say something and paused when Bruce turned to look at him. J’onn smiled, almost seeing the sparks between them. Clark moved forward and kissed Bruce, sliding a hand into his dark hair. Intent and focused on each other, they didn’t see Lex running at them. 

Lex pulled Clark off of Bruce, throwing him aside so roughly he fell to the deck. Bruce stood, ready to fight even as Lex punched him. Bruce moved with the punch so it didn’t hurt him, but looked to Clark. J’onn turned visible and human, so Bruce could see him moving to Clark. Holding his head, Clark tried to work to a sitting position, but he was lying on the deck. J’onn helped him sit up, mentally blocking some of Clark’s pain receptors. 

Bruce wasn’t putting up a fight, not like he had with Bane. He seemed to be more interested in dodging the blows as he watched Clark recover. Bruce must have made a mistake though, as Lex caught him in the stomach and he doubled over. A downward, driving punch to the head, and Bruce was on the ground. Lex started kicking and Bruce curled into it. 

_“Batman?”_ J’onn projected into his mind. _“Do you require assistance?”_

_“No. I’ve been kicked by experts, I’m fine.”_

_“Please inform me if that changes.”_

_“Will do.”_

Confused, J’onn turned his attention to Clark. Even with a bullet in his head, Clark was easier to understand. Bruce could fight back against Lex, but had chosen not to. Brushing against the turmoil in Clark’s mind, J’onn suddenly understood. J’onn kept Clark’s pain receptors numb, as Clark got to his feet. A few steps and he was pulling Lex off of Bruce. Spinning Lex around, Clark held him by the shoulders. 

“Enough Lex! You’re out of control and blaming it on me!” 

Lex tried to bring himself under control, but anger still filled his voice. “Bruce is to blame, he’s warping your mind.” 

“No, you are, you’re using my injury to turn me into what you want me to be. That’s not love Lex, and now you’re hurting Bruce.” 

“Clark, I do love you! I’m trying to show you that.” 

“I don’t love you because I can’t trust you!” Carefully, Clark released Lex and took a step backward. 

“Clark, please.” Lex pleaded, forgetting for a moment that he had witnesses to such a display. “Don’t do this, we’ll find a way to make it work.” 

“I’m sorry, Lex. I don’t know how to find my answers, but I know it’ll be easier without you hiding them from me.” 

“You don’t get to walk away from me!” Lex aimed a punch at Clark, but it was stopped inches from its target. Lex turned but Bruce didn’t let go of his fist. 

“I think my guest wants you to leave, Lexy.” Bruce smiled, but put a hand on Lex’s left arm, keeping him in the twisted position of throwing a punch. 

“He’s mine, Bruce.” Lex snarled, transferring all his rage at Clark to Bruce. 

“He doesn’t see it that way.” Bruce replied with a shrug before he started pushing Lex toward the docks. 

Lex tried to fight back but he found he had to step backward to keep upright. 

“I will crush you. I will rip down everything your family has ever built and see you selling yourself on street corners for food.” 

“I always thought that would be a good career field for me, Lexi.” Bruce’s light voice was completely at odds with the way he was manhandling Lex. 

Lex got a leg around the railing and raised his voice to yell over Bruce’s shoulder. “Clark, you have money, my money. You have a last name, my last name. You’re my husband!” 

Bruce paused, waiting for Clark’s response. 

“Lex, I can’t even believe you when you say that. If it’s true, I want a divorce.” Clark’s voice was soft and sad, but Bruce took it for a command. 

A kick to Lex’s knee got his leg off the railing and Bruce tossed him on the dock. “Have a good evening, Lexi!” 

J’onn touched Luthor’s mind, feeling the rage there. It was formless at the moment, but J’onn knew it would soon reach out to attack Lex’s enemies. J’onn touch Bruce’s mind, to find he was aware of the danger he had just agreed to. Lex stormed away as J’onn returned his awareness to his body. Clark was sitting down, sagging on the chair he had been playing a game from a few minutes ago. 

“Do not despair, Clark. It is much to ask, but if you trust us we can help you.” 

“No offense Jon, but I don’t know you.” 

“You know your own mind, Clark.” Bruce said, sitting down where he could keep an eye on the dock in case Lex returned. “No reason you should trust us, so trust yourself. Will you let us help you?” 

“Bruce, I trust you.” 

“You shouldn’t.” A soft smile and a shrug, but Bruce moved on before Clark could question it. “But trust that Jon can help you. He can get the bullet out and hopefully your memories will return.” 

“What if they don’t?” Clark was speaking to Bruce, as if he’d forgotten J’onn was there. “Lex knew the answers, and I’ve just lost that.” 

“All you lost was his controlling nature. I’ve got just as much money, and I won’t stop throwing money at the problem until it’s solved.” 

Clark half smiled at that, knowing Bruce was trying to cheer him up, but it slid off his face. “I appreciate that Bruce, but what if I never find the answers?” 

“I’ll find a place for you, somewhere. Board of Directors wants me to hire a bodyguard anyway.” 

“You? After the way you took down Bane?” A throwaway question, but it brought an important question to Clark’s mind. “Why did you let Lex beat you up?” 

“Who says I let him?” Bruce asked, too quickly to be convincing. 

“You’re deflecting! You let Lex beat and kick on you, so I’d see what a monster he was.” 

Clark’s voice had slowed down as he spoke, so Bruce had a long time to pretend to look for injuries on his body and adjust his shirt sleeve over his bracelet. 

“I didn’t believe you when you tried to tell me, so you had to show me. He could have hurt you, or shot you. I’ve seen Lex with guns, Bruce!” 

“He was too angry to be a good shot.” Bruce made a dismissive gesture and changed topics. “Are you going to let Jon help you?” 

“Do you think he can?” 

“Yes.” 

“Okay, he can fix me.” Clark locked his eyes with Bruce’s showing that it was really Bruce he was trusting here. 

Bruce stared back for a long moment before wrenching his eyes away to speak to J’onn. “Jon, you want to call Ollie for transportation? And block that signal we were talking about the other day.” 

“I will attend to that.” J’onn offered a deep nod to the two men before he went inside. Phasing into Bruce’s room, J’onn activated the device to block Lex’s communication with his meat puppet. Lex had protocols in place to inform him of this lost signal, so he would be busy for a while. That done, J’onn activated his JL comm. 

“Watchtower.” Chloe’s disguised voice responded as quickly as she could considering the distance between them. 

“This is J’onn. Our missing friend is ready to return to the Watchtower.” 

“Excellent!” Chloe’s triumphant cry came through clearly. “I’ll send Arrow to fetch you, but won’t tell anybody else for a while.” 

“That is for the best. He might not be ready to face his reception committee.” 

Chloe laughed. “Looking forward to having you both back. Watchtower out.” 

Allowing his human form to smile, J’onn returned to the deck. Clark and Bruce were side by side and not looking at each other. Clark was worried about what he’d given up and the unknown he’d just agreed to. Bruce looked disappointed, sad that something was ending. J’onn did not expect he could relieve Clark’s discomfort, as his concerns were justifiable. 

“Bruce, you will be there for Clark if he needs you. I assure you he will return the favor.” 

“What?” Bruce asked, a touch of anger in his voice. 

Bruce didn’t like to be called out on his emotions, but J’onn wasn’t concerned. “Simply that you should not seem so distraught over Clark leaving, you will find each other again.” 

“Jon, have you ever read _Firestarter_?” 

Bruce asked in a pleasant voice that made J’onn stiffen with concern for his physical self. Clark flicked a confused glance between them, wondering what he was missing, before dismissing it as something private. 

“Jon’s right, Bruce. I don’t know who I’ll be if my memory comes back, but I hope I’ll still be worthy of being your friend.” 

“Worth has nothing to do with it; real life just gets in the way.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Clark turned to frown at Bruce, the curiosity penetrating his fear of the future. 

“It means, Clark, that you’ll get your memories back. Knowing you as I do, I’m sure those memories are full of wonderful people, including someone you love. We’ll keep in touch for a while, but drift apart because I have stuff to do in Gotham and you’ve got the rest of the world to cover. So it might be more efficient to say goodbye here and be done with it.” 

“Efficient? How can you talk about efficiency when I’m in love with you?” 

Bruce flinched at that, but rallied quickly. “Clark, you’re not in love with me. You’re lonely and vulnerable, forced to be that way by a bad guy.” 

“What the hell is your problem?” Clark jumped to his feet, turning to glare down at Bruce. 

Bruce stood, pulled Clark into a hug and turned him around in a strange dance move. Behind them, where Clark had stood a moment ago, a trail of fire cut across the deck and chairs. J’onn launched himself upward, latching onto Parasite’s back and increasing his molecular density. Parasite wasn’t expecting that and sank to the deck before he could adjust. He didn’t work to throw J’onn off when he landed, just staggered a bit. 

“Thanks, Jon.” Bruce said, and J’onn released Parasite. Bruce had a plan, and as J’onn moved away, Bruce slung his left arm around Parasite’s shoulders. “Jack Ruby wasn’t it?” 

“Rudy Jones!” He snarled back at Bruce, even as he seemed to wilt a little more under the friendly arm. 

“Right, Rudy. My friend over there, trying to put out the electrical fire or whatever that was, has a bone to pick with you.” Clark had dragged a fire extinguisher up from somewhere and was spraying it over the twin lines of flame. “It seems you have something of his, but if you give it back he’ll forgive you.” 

“I don’t have nothing of his!” 

“Really? He says that pain growing out of your bones, making you want to throw up, that’s his. If you give it back to him, you don’t have to feel that anymore. It’s only going to get worse.” Bruce sympathetically confided in Parasite, who crumbled to his knees. 

“I can get through this. I’ll destroy you!” 

“That’s it, keep a happy thought.” Bruce patted him twice on the left shoulder and moved down to keep contact when Parasite folded to the floor. Bruce started rubbing Parasite’s back, to make him feel better, but it allowed J’onn and Clark to see the glowing green rock in Bruce’s bracelet. 

J’onn had seen the bracelet earlier, the first piece of jewelry he’d seen Bruce were. It had been plain silver then, without the kryptonite stone he was using to stop Parasite. 

“I’m not giving …” Parasite muttered to the deck, and Bruce made an adjustment to his bracelet that seemed to make the kryptonite rock grow larger. 

“That’s it Mr. Jones, you just hang on to your powers until death do you part.” 

Parasite moaned and turned purple. The purple light rose from him and floated toward Clark, hesitating before plunging into him. As the purple light retreated from Clark, he staggered and dropped the fire extinguisher; breathing heavily as he tried to adjust to the whirlpool of sensations the purple light left him. The purple being returned to Parasite, who relaxed without the unbearable pain eating into him. 

“Jon, is there something you wanted to say to Mr. Jones?” Bruce said calmly, as he closed the lead casing over his kryptonite bracelet. 

Parasite turned to snarl at Bruce. “Have me arrested, I’ll always know Clark Kent is Superman.” 

J’onn reached for Mr. Jones’ mind, finding his knowledge of his stolen powers. 

“I’m Superman?” Clark asked in a disbelieving voice as he tried to find a way to not hear every noise in the world. 

J’onn found Parasite’s memory of the incident from so many years ago, and made a new connection. Then J’onn edited a few of the more recent memories to follow that new connection. J’onn pulled out, and Parasite shook his head. 

“I’ll always know Clark Kent is Impulse!” 

“Really?” Bruce offered in the tone most people would tell a two year old ‘nice try’. “I hear he prefers Flash now.” 

Bruce seemed to be helping Parasite to his feet, but was escorting him off the yacht the way he’d done to Lex. 

“Jon?” Clark asked, pulling J’onn’s attention to him. “I don’t think I’m the Flash.” 

“You are not. You are also very confused.” 

“I don’t know what that guy did, but I can hear, see, and smell everything. It’s making me dizzy, and my eyes feel like they’re on fire.” 

“It would be best if you slept now, Clark.” 

“What? I can’t sleep!” Panic filled Clark’s voice as he shouted against the overwhelming return of his senses. 

“Clark, trust in Bruce to do what is best for you. Sit down, feel the weight of your limbs and know Bruce will take care of you.” A mental nudge and Clark followed J’onn’s instructions. Once he was seated, it was a simple matter for J’onn to get him to rest. “Sleep, Clark and all will be well.” 

Once assured that Clark was asleep, J’onn noticed Bruce beside him. “I put him to sleep so the return of his gifts did not make him desperate for an explanation.” 

“I figured. I told Ryan to take us out of here, so I’m hoping Ollie can find us in that plane of his.” 

“I believe he will be able to do so. That bracelet of yours would be beneficial in treating Clark.” 

“Open the aperture just enough to let you open Clark’s head, that sort of thing?” 

“Yes.” J’onn saw no purpose in denying why he was speaking of the device. 

Bruce took the bracelet off and handed it to J’onn without a word. 

“Will you be joining us at the Watchtower?” J’onn asked 

“I’d never belong to a club that would have me as a member.” 

“Groucho Marx? You have an impressive array of knowledge.” 

“Don’t waste time flattering me. Your ride will be here shortly, so make sure you have all your stuff. And stay out of Gotham unless I ask for your assistance, got it?” 

“I will inform the League of your request.” J’onn didn’t really understand why Bruce didn’t want to be there for Clark when he recovered from this. 

Even now, Bruce was distancing himself, going to his room rather than see Clark off. It was inconceivable that someone as smart as Bruce thought he could ignore the connection between him and Clark. That was something they would have to work out for themselves and words of wisdom would only help them so much. J’onn decided to see to Clark’s recovery and leave his emotional wellbeing for another time. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

The whirl of his senses was too much to process, too much to remember, so Clark clung to the things he could understand. He was floating, being shoved into a small airplane. A blonde man sneered at Bruce and made comments about finding something Bruce was good for, at long last. Bruce responded with a picture of that man in a Vegas showgirl outfit. Bruce left in the following silence, and Jon settled next to Clark before sleep took over once again. 

Next, there was a gurney and a trip through an office building. At least it didn’t look like a hospital to Clark, but he was taken to an operating room. Jon told Clark to sleep, but then there was pain. It echoed from every bone and made his skin want to crack and peel. Clark tried to scream, but could only moan weakly. The green man standing over him seemed to understand, as the pain receded and Clark was asleep again. 

When the pain was gone, Clark found he was under the sunlamps J’onn had put in the Watchtower for him. The pain was mercifully gone, the kryptonite having been removed, along with the bullet in his brain. He couldn’t feel the bullet exactly, but there had been an awareness of it that was lacking now. Also, he was controlling his abilities again, reflexively, like breathing. J’onn must have sensed Clark was awake and moved into view, green and bald. 

“J’onn, thank you.” Clark smiled up at his friend, happy to know him. “I remember everything, including what Lex did to me. Bruce is going to be insufferable when I tell him he was right about Lex. Not that he’ll say anything, he’ll just look at me all smug and sure of himself.” 

J’onn tilted his head the way he did when he didn’t understand a human behavior. “Are you sure your memory has completely returned?” 

“Yeah. I remember going into that underground warehouse laboratory and waking up on the yacht. I’m kind of weak, but some time under the lamps and I’ll be fine.” 

“Good, as you have many visitors lined up to meet you.” 

“I’m ready.” Clark smiled as he said this, eager to see his friends again, but J’onn seemed hesitant about something. 

“Clark, Bruce Wayne is not among them.” 

“Not yet, but once I tell him my secrets he can come in to see me.” 

“Clark, what of Lois?” 

“Lois?” Of course he was still engaged to Lois, Clark though angrily. He’d known that, just not made the connection somehow. “How am I going to explain this to her?” 

“I would recommend letting her do the talking, at least until you are fully recovered and sure of your mind.” 

“I think I’ll do that.” Clark heard himself whisper as understanding crept into him. 

He’d only thought he was in love with Bruce, who was simply a better option than Lex. Clark hadn’t even had crushed on a guy before Rudy Jones was telling him about how his boyfriend had saved his life. His pubescent desires had latched onto Lana and had slowly recovered when that hadn’t worked out. Then Lois had stormed into his life, his personal tornado that he’d had to love. He was supposed to marry Lois in six weeks, so why was he still thinking of Bruce? 

“Clark!” Dinah called as she entered the room, running forward to hug Clark. 

Clark put his introspection aside as he hugged her back, grateful to be back to his own life. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Lois returned from work to find Clark sitting on the balcony of their apartment. He’d built the thing himself, so he had a place to launch into the sky and go rescue somebody. Now he was sitting there, reading the newspaper and absorbing what light he could. He was reading Lois’s most recent article, the one that had kept her from visiting him at the Watchtower. 

Lex’s private plane had crashed, with Lex as the only survivor. Lois had hoped it was a coincidence that the crash occurred the day after Ollie had called to tell her he was going to pick Clark up. Now Lois was working on an article about Lex’s vicious attacks against Wayne Enterprises. He didn’t blame W.E. for the crash, but he’d emerged from it with a hatred for all things W.E. Lois didn’t tell Clark this as she sat across from him on the balcony. 

“No kiss, Lois?” Clark asked, as he folded the newspaper and put it away. 

Knowing he hadn’t called her after he was rescued, Lois reached for what she had to say. “We’re over, aren’t we Clark?” 

“No! I mean, not unless we are.” 

“I’ll break up with you, if that’s what you want.” 

“I don’t want that. I do love you, Lois.” 

“But it’s not enough for you. I don’t know what happened to you on that yacht, I just know the details Chloe felt she could give me. But I know what happened to me.” 

“I’m sorry.” Clark muttered, and Lois put a soft hand on his knee. 

“Don’t be. I was worried and scared for you. But then I went to work and went about my life. That’s the problem, Clark. I still love you, but you don’t define my life anymore. You had a bullet in your brain and I went a fashion show for the paper. I feel like some kind of scum for not pining away for you, but I’ve got crap to do.” 

“I don’t understand.” Clark looked confused and not heartbroken, so Lois pushed on. 

“I love you, Clark, but not enough. I can’t imagine a better man than you, but there has to be someone I would give up my life for. Someone who loves me enough that they wouldn’t ask me to. You ask me to be more careful all the time.” 

“That’s just a safety precaution, I’m not asking you to change your job or your lifestyle.” 

“For now, sure. But when I get older, slower, you’ll be telling me not to go after this story or that. Concern will turn into control, and I’ll resent you.” 

“I won’t be like that.” Those otherworldly eyes had always been so sincere, and Lois didn’t want to be the cause of the pain in them. 

“Maybe not, but I need someone who can’t make me change. I would change to be with you.” 

“Like Lex tried to change me so I’d be with him?” Clark looked away, hiding a private hurt. 

“Something like that.” Lois let her hand trail through Clark’s hair, in a soft movement. “I’ve got another apartment and I’ve canceled the wedding. Can you forgive me?” 

“Only if you can forgive me.” Clark looked up, sincere as always and wanting Lois to understand. 

“What did you do?” 

“They told me I was gay. Lex didn’t do it for me, but I did fall in love with another guy. I could still go for him, even now that I remember and love you. I should have felt our love and used it as a shield against him.” 

“You would have, if our love was the mystical true love of fairy tales.” Lois sighed, and wished her heart was breaking, if only a little. “I’m going to my place. Do us both a favor and make sure you’re recovered before you hunt down Bruce Wayne.” 

“Chloe told you who, huh?” 

“No, Ollie hasn’t shut up about him for a week, and neither has Lex. I figured you were the reason, somehow.” Clark sagged back in his chair at her words, ignoring the joking tone. 

In a flare of emotion, Lois leaned in to kiss him. There was still passion there, but now it was tinged with disappointment and regret. Pulling away Lois was only sad for a moment, before she started wondering how to get Lex to stop attacking Wayne, for Clark’s sake. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

The unveiling of the King Tut exhibit at the Gotham Museum was the first time Brucie made a public appearance in over two weeks. The press was ablaze with rumor, most claiming Brucie’s disastrous love affair with Lex resulted in the vigorous way Lex was going after W.E. Brucie hadn’t commented, but winked suggestively when asked. 

That was also Bruce’s plan when anybody asked about Lex, the weeks Brucie wasn’t to be found, and any rumors that he had been seen eating in Santa Prisca. Wink suggestively and move on, hoping the press would get bored eventually. The same thing wasn’t working on Alfred, who was meeting Bruce’s stoic silences with annoying, heartfelt sympathy. When Bruce snapped that he wasn’t recovering from a major illness and didn’t need that kind of crap, Alfred had patted him on the shoulder. 

“Dear boy,” Alfred had said, his kind words sticking in Bruce’s memory. “A broken bone is easier to get over than a broken heart.” 

Alfred had snuck out of the cave before Bruce could articulate that he had not had his heart broken and he barely knew the guy. When Superman had started showing up in the news again, he’d found compilations of the news footage waiting on his computers. Newspapers were folded back to show the heroic images captured on the front. Alfred kept that up until Bruce had pointed out this wasn’t helping him get over the broken heart he didn’t have. 

“Of course, Master Bruce.” Alfred said, still kind and solicitous. 

Bruce had come to the museum opening to get away from Alfred before going out on patrol. At least these people weren’t so damn nice about everything. And occasionally they broke up the monotony by getting robbed, if the gunshots were to be believed. 

“Everybody move to the left side of the room!” 

Bruce rolled his eyes and took two steps backward, through the stairwell door. Everybody else did move to their left, but they were facing different parts of the room, and had different left sides. In the confusion, no one noticed Brucie leave. Their robbers were not pros, but Bruce was still running down the stairwell and texting Alfred. The car met him in the alley, and no one was around to see Batman get out the other side. 

Back inside, the run-of-the-mill crooks had managed to get everybody on one side of the ballroom. Batman couldn’t help but notice it was, technically, the right side of the room as the crook entered. With the civilians cowering in fear and out of the way, it was rather easy to take out the lights with a batarang in an electrical socket. Screams from the crowd and the crooks huddle together against the darkness. 

Batman swooped in, hitting and kicking as he moved. Most of the thugs went down easily enough, but two made a break for the stairwell. Batman took the time to ziptie the downed thugs before running after them. They split up, one heading down while the other ran up the stairs. Transmitting instructions to Alfred as he ran up the stairs, Batman did the hardest thing in his world: he trusted in someone else to handle the situation. 

His prey made it to the fourth floor and the exhibit of precious gems before he got out of the stairwell. He probably hoped Batman would keep going, but each step he took pounded on the ground. He’s easy to track and running through the gem exhibit gives Batman a clear line of sight. The batarang collides with the man’s skull and he drops. 

A ziptie and Batman retrieves his projectile. He could stay here, but the threat is neutralized and the cops are on the way. Opening the window on the fourth floor sets off alarms, letting the cops know where to find this character. Then it was a simple matter to swing into the darkness. Gotham would drive Clark from his mind. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Clark had been on patrol when the news starting talking about Bruce Wayne being at the museum. Clark had been moving back into his real life, such as it was, and trying not to feel guilty about Lex going after Bruce. He thought he’d let that situation play out before speaking to Bruce. He was sure Bruce wouldn’t let Lex take over his business; it was just Clark excuse to avoid making a fool of himself. He’d also hoped they’d get the chance to meet again, in a more amicable setting. But the perky entertainment news reporter had mentioned Bruce, and Clark had returned to his apartment. 

It wasn’t even a conscious decision to change into his best suit and grab his press pass, hoping it would get him into the event. He flew slowly to Gotham, so as to not damage his suit and landed in surveillance blind spot. His time with Lex had at least taught him how to spot the cameras that filled modern life. Then it was a fast walk to the museum, getting him there just in time to hear the fight. Clark reached for his tie, but the sirens were coming closer and he only heard running footsteps. 

A man shot out the side of the museum and ran afoul of Rolls Royce pulling through the alley. The older driver got out to help the man, who slumped into unconsciousness almost as soon as the driver touched him, as if he’d been tasered. As blue and white lights covered the front of the museum, Clark moved back, into the shelter of City Hall. While the cops jumped out of their cars and organized things, a shadow jumped out the fourth floor. Instinctively, Clark jumped up to meet the shadow. He expected a bad guy, desperate to escape the cops, or maybe a panicked hostage. He wasn’t expecting an angry man in a mask twisting in his arms. 

“Get out of my city.” 

A surprised intake of breath as he searched for something to say, and Clark smelled something familiar. Clark flew them to City Hall, setting down on the dome. He didn’t release Batman as he leaned in for another sniff, this one pulling a smile to his lips. 

“I know your smell, Bruce. I know those lips, I’ve been dreaming about them for weeks.” 

“Go home, Superman.” 

“The voice is different, but I know it’s you.” Clark tried again, thinking Bruce must not realize who he was talking to. 

“And I know it’s you Clark. I don’t care, go home.” 

“Why?” 

“Why what?” 

Clark blinked at that, as twenty questions hadn’t been a part of any of his fantasies about meeting Bruce again. “Why don’t you want me here?” 

“I told J’onn to keep the JL out of my city.” 

“I’m not the JL; I’m a guy in a tux.” 

“So you didn’t grab me in mid air and fly me to the roof of City Hall, because you can’t do that sort of thing while wearing a tux?” Snarling insults, every bit the picture of Batman Ollie had enjoyed describing. 

“No, Bruce. I’m a guy in a tux who came to town to talk to a guy at a party.” 

“And stops to pick up random guys jumping out windows.” 

“I thought you might be in trouble!” Bruce’s impeding attitude was starting to get to Clark, and probably would really piss him off once the shock wore off. 

“I’m not. Go away.” 

“You’re not going to say anything about me coming to town to talk to you?” 

“Rescuing you was a special occasion, don’t get used to it.” 

Clark felt the beginning of a headache, completely different than the ones caused by his Kryptonian physiology trying to drive the bullet out of his brain. That wasn’t an answer to the question Clark asked, it was rude and defensive. Bruce wasn’t like this, so was he trying to scare Clark out of town or something? “Bruce, don’t try so hard to be an asshole.” 

“I’m Batman, and I am an asshole. Ask anybody.” A gesture at the world around them, and Bruce took a step backward. 

A heavy sigh, and Clark grabbed Bruce’s shoulder. The grip was just hard enough to keep Bruce from slipping away while Clark closed his eyes and looked for a new approach. “Is this because I didn’t come the minute I got out of the hospital? The hospital you didn’t come visit me in, I might add.” 

“It was the Watchtower infirmary, and I’m not a member. Also, there is no ‘this’. Ask J’onn. All of that was a plan, a distraction to keep you from falling in love with Lex.” The implied insult that Clark could fall for Lex was definitely there. “It worked, and you don’t have to thank me.” 

“Thank you?” 

“You’re welcome.” A shift and Bruce was out of the grip on his shoulder. He didn’t get far before a blur of motion left Clark standing in front of him. 

“Even without my memory, I didn’t completely trust Lex. But I trusted you.” 

“You didn’t trust J’onn, even though he knew you from before. Statistically …” 

“Don’t. This isn’t a logic puzzle and there isn’t anything you can say to get rid of me.” Clark reconsidered, and focused on Bruce in a new way. “Actually, there is.” 

“I’m all ears.” 

“And they are very cute ears too. Tell me you don’t love me.” 

“Why? I’ve read about your resemblance to a polygraph. You’re going to claim I’m lying just because I’ve got emotions. What about your emotions? You’ve been engage to someone for about ten years and you can’t wait two weeks for your rebound sex?” 

“I don’t even know if I can have sex with you!” Clark felt himself blush, even before Bruce settled a look on him. Even with the mask on, Bruce’s look penetrated to the heart of Clark’s insecurities. “I’ve always been in love with women. These last few weeks, I’ve been trying not to think of you, or our time together, so I haven’t even thought about sex. Really, I was trying to mourn my separation from Lois and get back to my life. Then I overheard your name when I stopped a robbery of an electronics store. Knowing where you were was all it took to bring me here. How pathetic is that?” 

“Even more pathetic is that you admitted it.” 

“Huh.” 

“Huh?” 

“Your heart kind of stuttered when you said that.” 

“It was laughing at you.” 

“I think it was sympathizing. Kind of like it sped up when I caught you, like it wasn’t even bothered by you jumping out a window.” 

“I’m used to jumping, not being caught.” 

“What if I promised to always catch you?” 

“Impossible to achieve, so an illogical thing to promise.” 

“But you’d still like me to say it.” Clark smiled, suddenly feeling surer of this than he ever had about anything. 

“What, my beating heart tell you that?” 

“No.” Clark chose to ignore the heavy insult in the voice and words, picturing the Bruce he knew. “Your eyes.” 

“Lenses. You can’t see my eyes.” 

A change of his vision, and Clark saw the mechanics of the cowl, including the control device for the lenses. A fast movement and Bruce’s eyes were seeing Clark smile without the lenses between them. 

“I didn’t see it tonight. I saw it every time I smiled at you. Tell me, why does my smile reach your eyes?” Clark was smirking a little when he asked, the smirk growing as Bruce hesitated to answer. 

“You’re projecting, seeing what you want to see.” 

“Spoken like a man who’s used to dealing with crazy people. I’m not crazy.” 

“Yet you want me to be your first gay experience. Sounds crazy to me.” 

“Is that it? You can’t believe it’s not an experiment I’m after?” 

“No, Clark, I can’t believe anything will come of it.” Bruce paused to sigh, accepting his acidic words weren’t going to get him out of this conversation. “Like when I said goodbye on the yacht, we’ll start out like we’re on fire. But even forest fires burn out, given enough time.” 

“So it makes sense to not even try? I can’t believe that.” 

“That’s a major difference between us, you still have hope.” It was the first time Clark had ever heard anything like defeat in Bruce’s voice, and it rallied him to greater efforts. 

“I’ve got enough hope for both of us, Bruce. Give us a chance. Any way that works for you, I’ll try. You want to try the blazing hot sex as a starting point; I’ll fly you to your bedroom now. You want to go slow, I can do that. We’ll date for years before I’ll ask to spend the night. I’m a long term serial monogamist, I can do this. If you’re willing to let me try.” 

“I’ve got a city to save, I can’t stop doing that for anybody.” 

“I’m not asking you to. I’ll ask you to be careful and take care of yourself, but I trust your judgment. You’ll know when it’s time to stop, or pass on your cape.” 

“You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. This is who I am, not the guy hanging out on the yacht.” 

“So we’ll start slow. Tomorrow night, why don’t we have supper together?” 

“No movie?” Sarcasm and an eye roll, but neither dampened Clark’s spirits. 

“That’s for first dates. We’ve had lots of lunches, most of which were when you actually broke your fast, so we’ve even had breakfast. I’d like to have supper and talk. You claim we don’t know each other, but I know you didn’t throw away the panda I gave you.” 

“Yes I did.” 

“You’re sexy when you lie.” 

“I donated it to charity.” 

“Half a kissing couple? I don’t think so.” 

“I put it in the cave to study, make sure we didn’t give toxic toys to a bunch of kids.” 

“I’m thinking you did test it, but it checked out okay. Where’d you put it after that?” 

“In the attic with the rest of my toys.” 

“Master bedroom, on the nightstand?” 

“Why are we even talking about the stupid thing? There’s got to be a crime happening somewhere in Gotham I should be dealing with.” 

“It is on your nightstand! Does it help you dream about me?” 

“It’s in the drawer, next to the lube, so I can shove it up your ass if you ever drop by.” 

“Sure it is. What time and where do you want to meet?” 

“For what?” 

“Tomorrow, for supper.” 

“Will it convince you to leave me alone?” 

“No, but nothing will do that.” 

“If you can promise me that it will only be supper and you will not decide it’s a romantic proposal, you can come by the manor at six, sharp.” 

“I solemnly swear I see tomorrow night as a meal between friends.” 

“Dress civilian when you knock on the front door.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“No flowers.” 

“Check.” 

“And stay out of my city, unless you have an invitation.” 

“Understood.” 

Bruce glared, but seemed to have run out of conditions to put on their first date. Turning away, he made for the side of the roof. Clark waited until Batman looked ready to jump again, before speeding over to kiss him. A moment of annoyance, and Bruce was kissing him back. Clark pulled away first, reluctantly letting go of Bruce’s bottom lip. 

“That was a romantic proposal, Bruce, open ended. Whenever you feel like taking me up on it, I’ll be ready.” A quick, chaste kiss to seal the deal, and Clark flew into the sky. He’d drop his tux at home and be on patrol in under ten minutes. It would take longer than that to make him a permanent part of Bruce’s life, but he’d get there eventually. Bruce was right, Clark had hope; but Bruce had given him a reason to hope. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Rudy Jones, Parasite, season 8 Smallville episode "Injustice"


End file.
